


When the Winds Change

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aromantic Cas, Beards (Facial Hair), Bedroom Sex, Big Brother Gabriel, Bisexual Castiel, Bisexual Dean, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Castiel-centric, Come Swallowing, Gabriel owns a bar, Gentle Kissing, Happy Ending, Intimacy, M/M, Massage, Other, Plot, Tattoo Artist Dean, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean, Tattoos, Top Castiel, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After family loss and other hardships, Cas returns home at his brother's request to hopefully take roots for a while after a decade of living place to place on what he made working art shows and selling paintings, moving every few months or so. Knowing his brother needs a job, Gabe sets him up with Dean, the guy who owns the tattoo parlor next to his bar. Cas falls in with the other artists and starts building a stable life for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The East Winds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tattooeddean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddean/gifts).



The heavy door to the bar opened. The bell, too old and needing to be changed or at least dusted, rang quietly announcing the presence of a guest. The bar had just opened a few minutes before, and no one usually showed up for another hour at least. The bartender turned around from the line of glasses and mugs that had just come out of the dishwasher in the back to see what desperate soul had decided to hit the bar this early.

Gabe stopped cleaning the water spots off of one of the pub glasses and put the glass on the bar. He threw the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and a smile spread across his face. A tall sable-haired man with blue eyes stared back at him, putting his hands out in defeat, looking annoyed at his own arrival.

“Little brother!" Gabe yelled, a little too loud.  His brother winced. “You’re here! I didn’t think you’d show.”

“I said I’d be here,” he huffed. “That is, if you still have room for me.”

“I think I can dig up a few couch cushions for you to curl up on. Might even leave you some paper in the corner and a bowl of food.” He gestured for his guest to sit at the bar stool.

“I thank you for your hospitality,” he said, begrudgingly taking a seat. “I do appreciate the place to stay.”

Gabe’s face turned serious. “Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’d show. I might have to make up a real room for you. If you’re really going to stay, that is.”

“We’ll see how things go.”

“You need a job, right?” Gabe asked. He looked at his brother’s attire. “And maybe some clothes?”

He looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Gabe cleared his throat. “Oh, nothing. Nothing.” He looked at the vintage concert shirt stretched thin, rough jeans that were so worn they probably would cost a fortune if sold by a department store.  “Maybe some new stuff. And a shave.”

He scratched his face. It was only about a week’s worth of growth. “What, so I need to be clean shaven and wear button downs? You sound like Dad.”

“Ouch, Cassie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry. _Cas_. I just…you know what? You just got here. You want a beer?”

“I guess. Give me whatever you got on tap.”

Gabe pulled one of the glasses out and tilted it, filling it to the brim with only the slightest hint of foam.

“Nice pull,” Cas said, genuinely impressed.

“That’s why it’s my bar. I’m the best drink slinger.”

Cas raised his glass to his brother. “Cheers.”

Gabe lifted his bottle of water and touched it to Cas’s glass. “Cheers.”

“Still don’t drink?” Cas asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Nah.” Gabe shook his head and looked down at the bar, pressing his fingers into the wood for a moment, then turning his eyes back to his brother. “I’m in the business of dispensing, not imbibing. I don’t think it’s good business to own a bar _and_ be a drinker. No way to keep your business and personal life separate.”

“What personal life?” 

“Ring-ring.” Gabe mimed receiving a phone call. “Oh, Pot, is that you?”  He cocked his head and gave his brother his best bitchface.

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the position to be…whatever.” Cas drummed his fingers on the bar and took another sip of his beer, drinking it slowly as if it were wine. His eyes started to drift away to look at every corner of the bar – anywhere but at his brother.

Gabe seemed saddened by this avoidance. Being avoided by Cas wasn’t something new. He had set off on his own years ago, leaving behind everything he knew. Something was wrecked in him. People wouldn’t hear from him for months. He moved constantly, making it hard to keep tabs on where he was and what he was doing; more importantly, Gabe just wanted to know if he was okay. A postcard every now and then would make its way to the bar, citing some zip code that didn’t match the state the postcard was purchased in, telling him with a simple stamp that his brother was still on the move, and wasn’t coming home anytime soon. Still this barrier he had set up still wasn’t broken down. Yet the fact that here he was, sitting in front of Gabe, fingers wiping off the condensation on the glass of beer he wasn't drinking in front of him – this meant the world to him. He only wished it hadn’t taken him this long to do it.

“You remember what Dad used to say about you every time you flew into the house with a new plan?”

“Gabe, don’t –"

He started singing. “Wind’s in the east, mist blowing in –"

The door chimed. Two men walked in, raising a hand to Gabe but looking confused as to who the person in front of him was.

“- like somethin’ is brewin’, and ‘bout to begin…” he finished, his voice dropped to a low whisper.  He smiled, his eyes squinting, looking at his brother and the shorter of the two newcomers. “Hey guys!” he shouted, slapping his hand on the bar. “Come on in. Come meet my brother, Cas.”

The men approached the bar. Cas turned to face them, reaching out his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gabe’s little brother, Cas.”

“Well hell. This is the little guy? He’s not so little, Gabe. You make it sound like he’s twelve,” the shorter of the two said. He stuck his hand in Cas’s and shook it heartily. “Dean. This is my little brother Sam. Gabe calls him Moose.” 

“Why Moose?” Cas asked, shaking Sam’s hand.

“Your brother said I bring the east wind or some nonsensical bullshit he’s always spouting.” He looked to Gabe. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

Cas shot Gabe a look. “Nothing.”

“Anyway,” Gabe interjected. “Have a seat. I’ll pour you fellows some good whiskey.”

“Like the color of your eyes?” Dean said, in a faux dreamy tone, sidling up on the bar stool next to Cas.  Cas looked at him, then at his brother. Gabe just raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“That’s the only reason you come in here Winchester,” he teased over his shoulder. “You just come in here to stare at these deep pools you wish you could drink up.” He returned with short glasses and filled them with two fingers of whiskey.

“Make mine three,” Dean said, winking.

“I’ll just have a beer,” Sam added. “Bottle of Widmer.”

Gabe nodded. He slid the three fingers of whiskey to Dean, and before he could touch the second glass, Cas pulled it in front of him. He briefly glanced at Dean then to his brother, throwing back the drink and setting the empty glass on the bar. Everyone looked at each other. Cas just chased the whiskey with a swig of his beer. Dean raised his eyebrows but his attention quickly turned to his own drink, which he sipped.

“Where are you coming in from, Cas? Staying long?” Sam asked.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, looking up at Gabe. “I have a lot to consider.”

“This about your dad?” Dean asked. He regretted bringing it up the moment the words came out. “Sorry, none of my business.”

Cas pretended he hadn’t even heard the question. “Came in from Chicago. I’ve been lost for a while. Might be time to take root somewhere, or at least figure a few things out before I move on.”

“Why Kansas?” Sam asked. “Other than family, obviously. There must have been a lot more opportunity in Chicago. What do you do?”

“I draw. Paint. Any art I can do,” Cas answered. “Unfortunately it’s not very lucrative, and moving to the jobs was costing me more money than sense it made for me to keep doing it. Things weren’t going badly, they just weren’t going as well as I had hoped.”

“Dean’s an artist himself,” Gabe added.

“Really?” Cas said, looking over to the man on his left. He was struck by his features. Russet colored flecks brightened the scruff covering his jaw, his hair dirty blonde and messy. He looked rough and world worn, his stained and calloused hands matching the gravelly tone of his voice, but his eyes were a gorgeous green and freckles dotted his face across the bridge of his nose and under his cheeks. His features were strong, but almost pretty. He seemed a contradiction. When he smiled, lines creased outside the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, I own the tattoo parlor next door. If you find yourself needing some ink, I’m your man.”

“Oh he’ll definitely be coming to see you,” Gabe interjected.

Cas shot him an angry look that screamed _shut the fuck up_. Sam chuckled softly and Gabe smiled at him. Cas got a feeling these kind of jokes were thrown around a lot. He wasn’t used to it, but it seemed very commonplace between the three of them.

“Hopefully soon. I’m sure I can find somewhere on you that needs a little…something.” He looked Cas up and down. “And I’m very good at what I do.”

Sam rolled his eyes so hard his head fell back. His brother was absolutely terrible. He took a swig of his beer. Gabe touched his bottle to Sam’s, commiserating with him. Dean was the worst flirt. He wasn’t rude or a terrible dick about it, but he was the most charismatic asshole you’d ever meet. He quite literally charmed the pants off of girls shooting pool and guys throwing darts. And no one hated him for it – he didn’t kiss and tell, you just knew. He rode the line between the greatest guy walking the earth and a guy you want to punch in the face.

Cas tapped his whiskey glass for Gabe to refill him, then turned to Dean. “I don’t doubt your skill. You own a tattoo parlor, I’m sure you _are_ very good at what you do.”

“Oh…I am,” Dean affirmed, his smugness eliciting an eye roll from Gabe this time.

“Dean, shut the fuck up or you’re going to drive _me_ to drink.”

Cas excused himself and found his way to the men’s room. When the door to the bathroom shut, Dean turned and looked to Gabe with a bright smile. His face fell when he saw the nasty big-brother glare that was waiting for him.

“Hey man, I’m just trying to be nice. Sammy and me, we gotta be the welcome wagon around this town.”

“Yeah, well how about you don’t welcome my brother’s wagon?”  Gabe teased. “Actually I don’t care what you do with his wagon.”

“Is he…I’m not crossing any lines, am I?” Dean asked. ‘

“No, not at all. He doesn’t talk about it, probably because of Dad, but Cas swings both ways. I think he’d like you a lot.”

“Well I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy myself. I think I might like him too. At least for a few nights,” Dean joked.

“Dude, not cool,” Sam said. “It’s Gabe’s brother. Don’t talk like that.”

“Seriously Winchester, you hurt my brother and I will end you. He’s gone through enough, especially since Dad…just…don’t fuck with him, please.”

Dean watched Cas come out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He walked back to the bar, drying his hands on the front of his jeans. Dean bit the inside of his cheek and raised his glass to his lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”


	2. The New Deal

Cas struggled to open his eyes. The strong smell of coffee just a few feet away in the kitchen woke him up. Gabe was kindly trying to be quiet by shutting cabinets and drawers slowly, but the smell of the coffee couldn’t be ignored. He rolled off the couch and trudged over to the counter, sitting at one of the bar chairs looking into the kitchen.

“Morning. Sleep okay?” Gabe asked. Cas nodded. “You need coffee I take it?” Cas nodded again. Gabe brought him a mug and poured him a cup. “I don’t know how you feel about that Dean guy, but after you left last night he told me to have you come by the shop today. He needs another artist, and even if you aren’t doing the tattooing, having someone on hand that can work up the tattoos would be beneficial.”

Cas’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t sure about him. “He was kind of…I don’t know.” Cas stirred a spoon of sugar into his coffee. “Is he always like that?”

Gabe chuckled. “Yeah, kind of. He really is a great guy. Big heart. He just has…an interesting personality.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Cas sipped his coffee. It was very strong. The night before, he had called it quits and went to Gabe’s apartment shortly after he returned from the bathroom. The mood had shifted and he was sure he was the cause of it. He shook Sam’s hand and nodded at Dean, took Gabe’s keys and walked the block down the street to his door. The couch looked inviting, and he didn’t remember actually falling asleep, but he slept hard.

“Give him a chance. Shower, throw on some clothes, and just go see if you like the place.”

“I will,” Cas promised. He finished his coffee and went to get ready for the day.

 

 

Cas put his foot up on the curb to tie his shoelace that had come loose. He smoothed out his jeans and shirt, looking at the door of the tattoo parlor. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open and went inside, his portfolio in his hand. The floor was made up of shiny black and white tiles set out in two by two foot blocks, laid out like a checkerboard. The walls were a deep crimson and art hung up on the walls in the work space. Black leather couches made an ‘L’ shape in the corner, a table between them. Flash covered the wall on his left, and behind the counter was a pretty redhead with a small nose ring.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Dean. I’m supposed to come see him about an artist position.”

The girl smiled. “Oh, you must be Cas!" She jumped up from her seat and leaned over the desk, sticking out her hand. Cas shook it, admiring her firm grip. “So nice to meet you. I’m Anna. Oh you’ll love it here. Dean’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but don’t worry, I keep him in line as best as I can. He’s in the back office." She turned and pointed to a room with a window and shut blinds. “You can just go in. He’s probably still trying to wake up. He is a bear before his coffee, so I made it part of my stipulations in taking over as manager that he remain in his office until a half hour after he has his caffeine.” The phone rang, and she winked and nodded her head toward the back. 

Cas made his way past the work stations to the office door. Dean’s door had two hand painted signs on it, one next to the other. The top one said something about there being a ten dollar fine for whining, the one below it had written in a flowing script ‘ _flirting makes it hurt less_.’  A nail situated between the two had a sign hung on twine that said Go Away stenciled on one side. He lifted it to see what was on the other side. It said ' **I Said GO AWAY**.' He placed it back quietly and the door opened.

“Who the – _oh_ , Cas. Hey man. Glad you came in,” Dean said. He pushed past him and walked to the work station in front of his window. A tilted table with a lamp was cluttered with pages of drawings.  A flat desk sat perpendicular to it against the wall of Dean’s office with jars filled with pencils, pens, colored pencils, charcoal pencils, and markers. An empty cigar box had its lid flipped open, erasers of all types thrown in with no order. “I know it’s a little crazy. Our guy moved last minute and I’ve had to pick up the slack in the drawing department, but I’m not the most organized guy – well it’s organized, but in _my_ way, so it’s just a chaotic mess. You can set it up however you like.” He stared at Cas for a moment before realizing he never had made an offer or arrangement with him. “I mean, I don’t know what Gabe told you, but the job is yours if you want it. For however long you’re around.”

“That’s very generous, Dean. I appreciate it. As much as I wish I could decline, I’m not really able to,” Cas said.

Dean looked confused. “Why do you wish you could say no?”

Cas sighed. “I just don’t want to walk in and get handed a job because you’re friends with my brother. I’d like to earn a job. Have you even seen any of my work?”

“No.” He looked ashamed to admit it. “I get it, man. Show me what you got.”

Cas handed him the portfolio. Dean opened it and set it on the inclined table. He straddled the stool and made himself comfortable before thumbing through the pages. Cas’s designs were gorgeous. He had constellations and clouds, highly detailed wings and feathers, anatomy, and both complicated and minimalist symbols. While Dean turned the pages, Cas let his eyes wander to the sketches scattered around the workspace. Impressive fantasy drawings of Saint Michael the Archangel, demons, monsters, and sigils all had a da Vinci-like quality. They were magnificent sketches.

Dean closed the portfolio and looked at Cas. He scratched his beard and raised his eyebrows. “Dude, your stuff is amazing. It’s perfect for the shop. You completely get the job on your own merits, if it makes you feel any better. Which it should, because I don’t bullshit about people’s artistic skills – especially if their work is going to be representing my shop.”

Cas smiled. “I’m glad to be in good company. Your work is great.”

“You should see Anna’s portraits. She does photorealism like no one I’ve ever seen.”

“I think I’m gonna like it here.” He had to admit, working with artists with varied styles in one setting sounded like the dream job at the moment. He felt the unfamiliar sensation of a smile spreading across his face.

Dean pointed at him. “Look at you, smiling. That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.” His voice softened. “You have a nice smile.” He stared at Cas for a moment then cleared his throat. “I’ll let you get to work. You can do whatever – that mess is garbage,” he said, gesturing to the mess of papers on the tables. “Make it your space, and then we’ll get working on some tattoos for some appointments this week and go from there.” He winked at Cas and retired to his office, shutting the door. Classic rock started playing through the walls, the unmistakable sound of “Enter Sandman” rattling small speakers on the other side.

Cas turned to the tables. He went through the ‘garbage’ Dean referred to, but couldn’t bring himself to throw any of it away. He straightened the papers and ordered them, finding folders to put them in, separating the complete drawings from the sketches. He put the folders inside his portfolio to look at later. Cas felt as if he was almost stealing, but he really wanted to go over all of them when he had time and wouldn’t be caught by Dean. He moved on to organizing the instruments by jar instead of having them all randomly shoved in where they would fit – or wouldn’t. By lunch everything was cleaned up and ready to be operational. He hit a switch in the underside of the table and realized it was backlit for tracing. Cas couldn’t help but be impressed. Anna called him to the font and handed him a brown paper bag with a drink.

“Here, eat something. We’ve got a full schedule for the next few days, so I’m going to have to put you to work and I’m not sure when you’ll get a break again so enjoy it.”

They sat at the leather couches in the front, eating and chatting about how busy the shop was and what kinds of clientele they had when Dean emerged from the back and joined them. Anna nodded to his food at the coffee table between them. He snatched up a bag and drink and sat next to Cas, who was just finishing his sandwich. He sat back with his drink, finding it hard to talk when Dean was around.

“Don’t stop on account of me,” Dean said, unwrapping his meatball sub. He looked at Cas. “Anna tell you we used to fuck?”

Cas choked on his drink. When he finished coughing, he sputtered “I’m sorry?”

Anna shot Dean a nasty look. “ _Really_ , you asshole?” She looked to Cas. “I’m so sorry. So fucking rude, this one. Anyway, yeah, Dean and I used to be friends with benefits, but then realized we were more of friends and the other part of our relationship just wasn’t as beneficial for either of us. But he’s still one of my best friends, the little shit.” She kicked her foot toward him, but couldn’t reach far enough.

“Here let me help,” Dean said with a mouthful of food. He lifted his leg past Cas so that Anna could reach him, and she kicked him. He looked at Cas and smiled. “See? I’m nice.”

“Everyone seems really open around here,” Cas said.

“When it’s between friends, what’s the problem? And being Gabe’s little brother, you’re a friend by default.” He took another bite and chewed quickly. “Plus you should know about the environment you’re going to be working in,” Dean added. “We’re a crass bunch of terrible people with good hearts.”

Cas smiled. “It might take some getting used to, but I think I can handle that.”

“Look, he did it again. Isn’t his smile great, Anna?”

“Yes, his smile is very pleasing. Well I have to get back to work because we’re open,” she said, looking up at the clock.

Dean shoved the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth, licking his fingers. He made a series of gestures and got up, walking back to his office. Cas assumed he meant to say something about getting back to work.

 

Cas enjoyed his time working at the shop. He drew up four or five tattoos a day, some for clients and some for portfolio work or flash. He enjoyed the flow of the shop. The banter between Anna and two other artists, Ruby and Benny, was entertaining. He listened more than actually participated in their conversations that ranged from everything between if farm fresh eggs tasted better than store bought and whether or not they were going to hell.  They made continuously changing lists of their top ten people they’d have sex with given the chance, Anna and Ruby jokingly putting each other as their number tens each week, and Benny put both of them as his. Benny would fall asleep in his chair in between scheduled appointments with his arms crossed snoring softly, and Ruby would stick things in his beard. Cas would watch the goings on and smile, sometimes snickering to himself watching them, leaning against the partition that separated his area from the work spaces. One day Anna came around the corner and grabbed the bottom of his stool, taking advantage of the wheels by pulling him from his desk and up to the front.

“We made our end of the week top ten, Cas. You’ve been here for two weeks and you haven’t made so much as a peep from back there in your hole that wasn’t work related. We demand a list,” Ruby said. “So who is it that gets you all riled up?” She had her hands on his knees, looking deep into his eyes. He wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but he was certain there was a lot of panic. He was relieved when Dean came out of his office, looking tired and haggard.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked. “Why don’t I hear the buzz of machines?”

“We don’t have anyone scheduled until two,” Anna answered. “And we’ve demanded Cas make a list.”

Dean stood with his arms crossed. “Why are you demanding he make a list?” He sounded like a grumpy school teacher.

“Because, boss man, he has never made one,” Ruby snarked. She looked at Cas accusingly, as if this was some sort of terrible misdeed.

Dean sighed. “Well, then he has to make one.”

“What?” Cas asked, his head snapping to look at Dean.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make mine first.” He walked over to the dry erase board on Benny’s partition and picked up a marker, muttering “You big baby.”

Anna spun Cas around and pushed him into the entry of Benny’s space. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “He hasn’t played in months.”

Dean put his name on the board and underlined it, writing numbers one through ten. At ten he wrote ‘that chick from Titanium’. “Stripper. Favorite,” he said over his shoulder, explaining it to Cas. At nine he wrote Charlie Hunnam and asked no one in particular if they had seen _Sons of Anarchy_. Eight was Ruby/Anna. The girls both punched him. Seven was Benny.

“Come on, man,” Benny whined.

Dean pet his beard. “I can’t help it. I just want you to be my big teddy bear.”

“Shut up, you dick.” Benny laughed.

Six was Mila Kunis. Everyone nodded in agreement. Five was Nicki Minaj. Captain Kirk and Katee Sackhoff were four and three. Benny said _good choice_ about Katee. He paused before writing his top three. He scribbled on the board, turned and handed the marker to Cas, and walked back off to his office. Everyone looked at his top three.

  1.        Adriana Lima
  2.        Hannah Snowdon
  3.        Cas



“Well that’s bullshit,” Benny whined. 

“Shut up. Like you even care. You’re like, super-hetero,” said Ruby. “But he’s just fucking with you Cas. And you don’t have to make a list. I mean you definitely can, but you don’t _have_ to.”

Everyone cleared out of the space. Benny was going home since he’d had a before-hours appointment and had nothing the rest of the day. Ruby’s appointment arrived early and she went to get started while Anna helped a walk-in. Cas sat in his stool staring at Dean’s list. He stood and wrote his name on the board, underlining it and writing a number one. He sat for long enough staring at the board that he heard Ruby starting up her tattoo gun which made him jump. He wrote on the board and then went back to his work station, his face hot. When Anna heard him wheeling his stool back, she went to look at the board. Her face grew serious then stifled a giggle and her heart swelled when she saw the list under Cas’s name.

  1.        Dean




	3. Interesting Prospects

At seven, the last appointment for the day was being finished up and Ruby was ready to head home. Her day had been packed. Anna was getting antsy to leave. at least to grab something to eat. The night was slowing down, and she knew her Tuesday night was going to be full. Dean came out to check over the scheduling with her, and told her to go home. As she was packing up, a girl came in wanting a simple trail of four stars down her neck behind her ear. Dean again told Anna to head home, that he’d get it done. He had the girl go into Benny’s work area and he asked Cas to draw it up for him real quick. Cas sketched out a trail of stars and the girl loved it. Dean got to working on it and Ruby left. The bell for the door rang and Dean yelled to Cas, asking if he could get it.

“It’s just me and Sarah,” Sam said.

“Oh hey brother,” Dean said. “I’ll be about twenty minutes.”

“No worries. Wanted to talk to you and Cas. We can start with him.”

Cas walked up to the front. “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Yeah, I did. This is my wife Sarah. She’s the assistant director and a project coordinator for the university’s art gallery. They’re wanting to have a local art show…let her explain it,” Sam said, smiling.

Sarah put her hand out to Cas, her handshake very businesslike. “Nice to meet you. I hear you’re an amazing artist, and I’d love to see some of your work. Would you mind showing me?”

“Not at all,” Cas said, gesturing for her to follow him. He handed her the portfolio on his desk and she flipped through it, nodding and smiling as she went through the pages.

“Do you do any larger pieces?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” Cas said. “Anything you want.”

Sarah started walking toward the front again, Cas stutter stepping behind her for a second, not sure what she was doing, before following. “Dean, you almost done?” she asked as she passed him.

“Just a few more minutes Sar.”

She sat on the black couch next to Sam. Cas sat on the free couch in a spot closest to Sam, who was buzzing with excitement.

“Can I know what’s going on?” Cas asked.

“So get this,” Sam started, “Sarah’s boss wanted her to do some community event that would draw attention to the art community, and with our connections to Dean and, well, you, we thought maybe having an art gallery-like show and auction in the shop would be cool. It would bring attention to the art community, bring in some money for the shop, for you when your pieces sell, and Gabe said he’d host the after party. It’d be good business for everyone involved.”

Cas looked astonished. “That would be _amazing_. I would be very grateful for the opportunity to be a part of that, Sam.”

Dean walked the girl to the door with her instructions, and locked the door behind her.  “So what’s going on?”

Sarah explained the entire proposition to him from start to finish, providing numbers for turnout, possible local sponsors, and a timeline. Two weeks from today was what she was shooting for, and just needed Dean’s okay to start putting out information. Dean’s tired look was slightly brightened by this prospect. It would be great for the artists of the shop exposure-wise and for them financially. Sarah promised to keep him up to date on the latest info, and she and Sam promised to make plans for dinner the next week to do some planning, inviting Cas to join them. He didn’t know what to say, he just nodded. Dean unlocked the door and let them out, locking it behind them. He turned off the neon Open sign and flipped the second sign that hung on the door, in case someone couldn’t figure it out, to Closed. He flipped off the light in the front and started to stalk back to his office again when he stopped when he reached Benny’s work space, turning on his heel to face Cas.

“Number one, huh?” he asked. “And only?” His lips went to a firm straight line to contain the smile that was trying to push through. He rocked back on his heels and nodded, turned back, and continued walking.

Cas felt his face heat up and knew he was red. He started berating himself for doing that. It was ridiculous, really. Why would he have done something so blatant? He could have buried Dean’s name in a list of unnecessarily attractive people that he had no interest in, but no – he had to let that blunt honesty of his take over. Dean had hardly come out of his office since he’d been there other than checking up on everyone and lunch. This was sure to make him want to avoid Cas altogether. Sitting there worrying wouldn’t help either. He stood and took a deep breath, deciding to go erase his so-called list. He grabbed a paper towel and went to erase it when he noticed Dean’s list had changed. All of the names were crossed out – except Cas.

Cas’s stomach dropped. He quickly erased his list and Dean’s, tossing the paper towel in the trash. He turned to finish up his work so he could go, and was startled when he ran right into Dean.

Dean’s voice was low, almost a whisper with them being so close. “Why’d you erase the lists?”

Cas could feel his heart pounding. “Why did you change yours?” He had a hard time looking at Dean in a normal situation. His eyes were penetrating. He had to keep breaking contact and looking at random things whenever he looked at him, but this close he could only look at his freckles, which was infuriating. Cas froze when Dean leaned in, touching the side of his bearded face to Cas’s, just barely.

“Because…I figure, if you can be honest, maybe I should be too.” He pulled his face back slowly, keeping contact with Cas. His hand came up and seemed torn between cupping Cas’s jaw and gripping his neck, his rough fingers dancing between the two options. Dean didn’t bother but to look at Cas’s eyes for a second before slowly pressing his lips to Cas’s.  It was a brief encounter, just lips to lips, but when Dean leaned back, the tiredness in his eyes was replaced with a glimmer of something Cas couldn’t name. Dean gave him a small smile and backed away.  “Back door is unlocked. You should go. I’ll be closing up in a minute anyway.”

Cas nodded. He gathered his things and went out the back, heading down the alley one building over to his brother’s bar. He went through the back door and slid onto a stool at the end of the bar where there were a few empty spaces. The noise was enough to keep pace with his racing thoughts. When Gabe saw him, his brow furrowed and he crossed the length of the bar to see what was wrong with Cas.

“Are you okay?” he questioned, deeply concerned.

“I need whiskey.”

“Okay,” Gabe said, keeping his eyes on Cas as he poured him two fingers. Cas slammed it back and tapped the edge of the glass. Gabe refilled it. Cas took a sip. “What in the hell got into you?”

Cas looked as if he’d stepped off of a roller coaster. “Dean kissed me.”

Gabe burst out laughing. “Holy shit brother! I thought something was wrong!”

“How is that something I should not be freaking out about?” Cas asked, taking another drink.  The whiskey burned his throat.

Gabe leaned over the bar. “How did it make you feel?”

“What?”

“Were you offended? Were you excited? Were you angry? Did it make you get all…butterflies in the stomach?” Gabe was giddy, pantomiming all the possible reactions.

“Well I wasn’t offended or angry,” Cas answered. His drink was suddenly empty again.

Gabe laughed. “Hang on.” He returned with a glass of water and a beer. “First of all, no more whiskey tonight. Secondly, obviously this is a good thing. I told you,” he smiled and wagged his finger at Cas, “I told you that you would like him. He’s great isn’t he? Such a shithead sometimes, but he’s a great guy. I give you my blessing.”

“Thank you?” Cas’s befuddlement continued to grow. “Why are you so happy about this?”

“Because Cas, you blind little shit, you sleep on my couch, you go to work, you come home smiling. Every day since you’ve gotten here, you’ve been smiling more and more often. I like seeing you happy. Is that such a wrong thing?” He grabbed Cas’s face and squeezed it in his hand, squishing his cheeks. “You’re just so damn cute when you’re happy.”  Cas was at a loss for words. Gabe let go of his face and leaned closer. “Brother, you deserve to be happy. Let yourself.” He slapped his hand on the bar and walked away to help a customer.

Cas sat and drank his beer, and then his water. He had moved too much to really ever have a meaningful relationship, and he was too broken to care. Now that things were finally coming together for him, he found it scary. His gut told him to just disappear, but that was idiotic. It was just a kiss. It probably was nothing. Dean was a terrible flirt, everyone said so and he’d witnessed it himself. He was so open in front of others, but pulled into himself when less people were around. He had no one to perform for. Was this the real Dean he was seeing? Cas put his face in his hands and exhaled deeply. This is why Cas kept his distance from people. He over thought things and his emotions were so raw. He spun the spinner ring on his right hand Gabe had given him as a way to manage his anxiety. A hand touched his back as someone came behind him and sat down in the stool next to him. He looked up and Dean was there. Cas froze.

Dean looked at the beer bottle and two glasses in front of Cas. “Drinking to forget me already?”

“Uh, no, just….”

“Don’t worry about it, man. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t have done that. You’re a great guy and I was being selfish.”

Cas tilted his head. “How was that being selfish?”

“I…I saw what I wanted and I went for it. I didn’t even…was that even okay for me to do?”

Cas had to stop himself from blurting out _yes_. “It’s not like it was completely out of nowhere, Dean. I did make a strong statement to let you know I was interested in you.”

The top of Dean’s cheeks blushed. Cas was surprised at his reaction. Gabe slapped the bar in front of them and startled them both.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything?” he asked absurdly loud.

“Another water for me,” Cas asked, respecting his brother’s no-whiskey rule for the rest of the night.

“Same.”

Gabe narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Water? Really?” Dean nodded. “Fine,” Gabe said. He returned with water for the both of them, taking up Cas’s pile he had accumulated. “You guys play ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ with your tattoos and scars yet?”  Cas glared at his brother. “What? Isn’t that what people do? I wouldn’t know. Never mind.” He winked at Cas and left them alone.

“You have tattoos?” Dean asked. He hadn’t seen any sign of them on Cas. His own were obvious, peeking out over his collar up onto his neck and out the ends of his sleeves onto his hands and fingers.

“Quite a bit, actually.”

“Not gonna lie. It turns me on a bit not knowing what you have going on underneath those clothes.” Dean sipped his water, looking Cas up and down.

Cas smiled. He leaned over to Dean, suddenly feeling as if he had the upper hand. “I’m curious as to what would be your reaction if you found out.”

Dean’s eyes started that mischievous shimmer again. “Oh, I’d like to find out.”

Cas mimicked Dean’s move from earlier, barely touching their faces together as he whispered in his ear above the noise of the bar, “And maybe one day you will.” He pulled his face back to see Dean’s mouth pinched.

He shook his head. “You absolute tease.”


	4. Late Nights

Gabe walked in on Cas perched on the couch, his knees to his chest, reading a book. The television was on, but the volume was turned down so much that it was only murmurs of background noise and periodic flashes of light.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

Cas held up a finger, his eyes racing across the pages of the book until he hit a good spot to stop. “Just reading.”

“Why are you sitting like that? It looks terribly uncomfortable.”

Cas looked at himself like he didn’t understand how he had gotten into that position, then tipped his head backwards, looking at the lamp. “Oh, I didn’t want the light to be on because it’s late and just too much light, but if I sat like this and held the book at knee-level, the light from the lamp was perfect. It was too quiet so I had the TV on too, but it got distracting so I turned it down.”

“You know you can move the lamp,” Gabe said. “You’re so much like Mom,” he said quietly as he moved into the kitchen.

“How was work?” Cas asked, placing the joker from a deck of playing cards in the pages of his book as a bookmark.

“Good. You know it’s almost two in the morning, right?”

“Really?” Cas looked at his watch. “I really lost track of time.”

Gabe walked out into the living room with a glass of water. “I actually didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Where else would I be?”

Gabe just stared at him. “Really?”

Cas stared back at him for a minute. “Oh. OH, no. No!” Cas looked flustered and surprised at the assumption.

“My brother doth protest too much, methinks.” Gabe waggled his eyebrows and took a gulp of water.

“Why would you think…I wouldn’t…” he stammered, not sure what evidence he could provide to back up why he _wouldn’t_ have gone home with Dean. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Gabe said with a laugh. “I’m just giving you shit. I saw he left and you left just after, so I thought maybe….”

“You thought wrong.”

“Obviously, mea culpa. Did you hear about the art show Sarah’s putting together?” Gabe asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. I have no idea what to do for it though.”

“Not a lot of time to come up with something either. And if you’re doing more than one painting, that’s a tight schedule.”

Cas sighed. “I know. It’s going to be a lot of late nights.”

Gabe winked. “I bet.”

“Shut up,” Cas said, blushing. He couldn’t contain his smile.

“Well you should get to bed. I didn’t clear out the guest room for you to fall asleep on the couch reading.” Gabe put his empty glass on the counter.

“I will. I better rest well tonight because the next few weeks are going to be exhausting.” Cas stood and started heading toward his room.

“It’s going to be brutal,” Gabe added. “Let me know if you need anything.” He went into his room and shut the door.

Cas didn’t bother to flip on the light. He knew if he did he’d be tempted to open the book back up, so he set it on the nightstand and stepped out of his jeans, pulled his shirt over his head, and slid in between the sheets. He brushed his lips with his fingertips, trying to remember the delicate kiss. He felt like a kid, his heart picking up a little just thinking about the possibilities of what could happen. Caught up in all of the dialogue and the what-if scenarios, he slowly dozed off thinking about Dean.

 

It was nine when Cas rolled out of bed. He jumped in the shower and threw on a new pair of jeans and a black belt Gabe had insisted on getting him since his wardrobe was limited, and a long sleeve white waffle shirt. Before he headed out, he laced up his red and black Converse and rummaged through the change jar next to the microwave until he found a few dollars to match what he had in his wallet, which was enough to grab a bagel and a coffee on the way to the shop.

Cas got to work twenty minutes before Anna would be there to unlock the front. He forgot it was Saturday and she wouldn’t be there just yet. He stuck the bagel in his mouth so he had a free hand tried to pull the door just in case, but it was locked. He had left his cell in his other jeans and didn’t feel like sitting on the curb until Anna showed up. He rolled his eyes and knocked on the glass, hoping Dean was in his office and would hear him. He saw Dean’s head pop out of his door looking annoyed, but when he saw Cas he smiled and went to the door with his keys, unlocking it and letting Cas in, closing up behind him.

“What, you didn’t bring me anything?”

“I’m sorry….”

“I’m just kidding. What are you working on today?” Dean asked, walking back to Cas’s station.

“I was going to try to come up with some ideas on what to paint for the art show, but I can do whatever you need me to do.”

“Actually if you don’t mind, I’d like to do a little brainstorming with you in between tattoos. I’m working today since Benny’s off, and we really need to get started on whatever we’re going to be putting up for auction.” He looked Cas up and down. “But I’m going to go work on getting my first appointment set up because you look so goddamn hot right now that I need to leave.”

Cas’s eyes grew large as Dean stalked off. How did he do that? Cas was jealous of his confidence. He never seemed to overthink anything. The sureness he had in himself allowed him the luxury of not seeming awkward or stumbling over words.  He was who he was, and that was that. Take him or leave him. And Cas would be more than happy to take him. Everyone genuinely liked Dean, but Dean taking particular interest in him made Cas feel somehow important.

It was difficult getting work done with his mind wandering not only to Dean, but to the various ideas he was coming up with for their potential auction pieces. Cas drew up four simple tattoos for Anna's later appointments and two larger pieces for Ruby before he took a break. He wheeled his stool to the bare spot between the utensil desk and Dean’s window and leaned his back against it, feeling his back pop in three places. He lay his head against the wall and shut his eyes, flexing his hands, to shake out the stiffness.  He decided he needed to get back into yoga if he was going to be sitting hunched over a desk drawing all day for the foreseeable future. He peeked an eye open when he heard wheels rolling toward him. Dean had stolen the stool from another drawing table across from Cas and was rolling his way over. He stopped in front of Cas, casually rolling forward until his knees were on either side of Cas’s thigh. He took Cas’s hands and started to massage them.

“Knotted up?” he asked.

Cas felt his whole body flush. He swallowed, not remembering the last time someone had touched him so intimately. _It’s just your hands_ , he told himself. _Calm down_. But the touch felt so personal that it was hard to relax.

Dean shook Cas’s hands out. “Why are you not relaxing? Relax your hands,” he demanded, looking concerned. “I don’t need your hands cramping up. We still have at least six hours if not more to go tonight, so just let me….” Dean rolled the skin in between Cas’s thumb and forefinger, putting enough pressure to get the kinks out of his hand. He massaged his fingers, slowly working his way down each one until it felt like they were floating on clouds.

“Where did you learn to do this?” Cas asked.

“I learned it from the best – the magic fingers in motel rooms,” he joked. “What can I say? I have magic hands. It’s a gift.”  He put Cas’s hands back onto Cas’s knees and slid his stool back a bit. “I have a proposition for you.”

“What’s that?”

“I know we’ll be doing our own pieces for the show, but I thought maybe you and I could collaborate on two, blending our styles and making two unique paintings that go together. You help me with mine and I’ll put some of myself into one of yours. We’d sell them as a pair. I think it could be cool.”

Cas thought about it for a second. “It would be interesting. Do you have an idea for anything in particular?”

“I do, but it’ll take a little open mindedness on your behalf.” He paused for a reaction, but Cas only waited for an explanation. “Okay then. You do wings, right? And your anatomy is great. I love sketches and symbols, and do a lot of anatomy myself. I think if we had a collaboration on two fairly wide canvases, one of shoulders and wings, one of a demon with tattered wings, both with a realistic heart – that you would do – diagrammed out with the chambers labeled as virtues and sins – that I would do – I think the two together would be pretty fucking badass.” Dean smiled, holding his hands up to Cas as if handing the idea over to him.

Cas was blown away by the concept. “That would actually be pretty amazing. I think we could do it, fairly easily at that. When did you want to start?”

“If you’re willing, I can start after we close on the actual canvas. That means the rest of the day, barring any other walk-ins, you start working on the hearts.” Dean patted Cas’s knee and rolled back over to the other desk, tucking the stool beneath it before heading back to work.

Excited about this idea, Cas whipped out paper and started sketching, coming up with two distinct heart designs while Dean worked on the floor. He was pretty proud of how they turned out. One was muscular and smooth, the other more hollowed and pocked. It was subtle; essentially they were the same, but the little touches defined the angel heart from the demon heart. Relatively the same size and shape, the shading and contour lines gave them the distinction of good and evil. Now he just had to wait until closing.

 

Anna ordered pizzas for dinner and when they arrived, the four hovered over the boxes on the coffee table eating quickly so they could get back to work. No one else had come in, so Anna and Ruby had started working on their contributions to the art show. Anna was pumping out some portraits of celebrities, just finishing a Marilyn Monroe. Ruby was working on floral designs and skulls. Dean had finished the last appointment and was telling Cas he’d bring out the canvases as soon as he got done eating.

“I know we want to get some extra cash, but remember we’re representing the shop. Not like I need to say it, but quality over quantity guys.”

“Roger that,” Ruby responded, stuffing the crust from her pizza into her mouth. “Did anyone let Benny know?” she asked after she finished chewing and swallowed.

Anna raised her hand. “I emailed him all the details so he can go over them when he has time.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Dean said.

“That’s my job.”

“Alright,” Dean clapped his hands on his thighs. “Back to work. Go home when you’re done, rest up. I’m going to be indisposed this next week, so enjoy your days off and work hard when you get back.” He stood and started to walk away but stopped and faced his crew. “But seriously, if you’re not working and have nothing to do, get out of here. No sense in everyone sitting around staring at each other just because the sign is on.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Ruby said with a half salute.

Three hours and four tattoos later, the girls called it quits. They called their goodnights back to Cas and he stood and waved at them over the partitions, a pencil in his teeth and sketchpad in his hand. He sat back down and finished shading what he was working on when Dean came out of the back storeroom with two 30”x60” canvases.

Cas let the pencil fall out of his mouth. “Shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“I don’t kid. If we’re going to do your wings any justice, it had to be this size.”

“So how are we going to do this?”

“Take off your shirt.”

Cas jerked his head back. “What?”

“Seriously, take off that god awful shirt that looks so good on you. I need your shoulders.”

Cas blushed. He stood up and started to pull up his shirt and stopped. “Wait, why am I doing this?”

“Can you please just…oh god your hipbones.” Dean wiped his face and beard with his hand and adjusted how he was sitting on the stool. “Dude just hurry up and take your shirt off. I can’t stand your hips peeking out, it’s killing me.”

Cas buckled over with laughter then stood up and pulled his shirt up over his head. He turned it right side out and folded it, setting it on the stool while Dean looked over him. Cas had the center of his chest bare, a blank canvas waiting for just the right piece. _East Wind_ was tattooed in script on either side of his chest.  A single bird, a crow, flew parallel to his pelvic bone on his stomach, to the right of and almost just below his navel. His forearms were blacked out three inches up, the tops of trees standing tall to below his elbow, a cloudy grey sky with stars above them on his right forearm, the moon shining behind the clouds on his left. Feathers swirled around like art deco scrollwork, but Dean couldn’t see to where.

“Nice work. Let me see your back,” he said. Cas turned. Feathers started at his spine and rode his shoulder blades down his triceps, curling around onto his biceps. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, half asking. He turned back around.

Dean stood and picked up a canvas, holding it up to Cas’s back. “So this is what I’m thinking, and why I need you to be open minded about it. We prime the canvas. I paint your shoulders, the lines of your shoulder blades, and press you against the canvas. And whatever happens, that will be what we start with.”

Cas made a face. “I don’t know. If we’re doing the hearts like we discussed, a minimalist design might clash a little too much.”

“Fine. You model for me and I’ll draw your shoulders. They look better than mine.”

“I doubt that.” Cas dipped his head, smiling at the ground. He picked his shirt up and unfolded it to put it back on.

“No, don’t,” Dean said quickly with a sense of want in his voice, wheeling the stool closer. He hooked his thumbs through Cas’s belt loops, looking up at him and pulling him closer. Cas went along with Dean’s silent request, moving toward him slowly and without question. Dean traced the crow with his finger, rough against Cas’s skin. He looked up at Cas again, as if to ask for permission. His lips found Cas’s hipbones, and Dean took his time tasting Cas’s skin as he kissed his way toward his middle.

It had been a long time since Cas felt this way. He was nervous and excited, but the delicate kisses calmed him as Dean’s mouth moved across his stomach, beard bristling against his skin. Cas wasn’t expecting this kind of intimacy, but found it soothing. Even though it was just a simple act, it made him feel loved and cared about. When Dean reached his navel, he moved his hands to Cas’s hips and looked up to him with a small smile. Cas cupped his jaw, rubbing his beard with his thumb. Dean leaned his face into Cas’s palm, a gesture that made Cas’s heart drop to his stomach. Dean looked so vulnerable. His lips pressed back onto Cas’s skin, brushing them down to his belt, ending at where his jeans hung off his hips with a kiss. Cas looked at Dean’s hands. The words _Sins_ and _Love_ were tattooed across the tops of his fingers, a triangle containing a cross inside of a pentagram on one hand and a compass on the other.  Cas wondered what the rest of his tattoos were. He watched the fingers undo his belt buckle slowly. He unbuttoned Cas’s jeans, pulling the zipper down. Cas’s arousal was evident, and Dean readily took him into his hand, moving down and back up slow and firm. Cas swallowed, his breath deepening, the nervousness returning, flooding his stomach. He covered his face in his hands when Dean’s breath ran hot against his skin, and blew air out in a steady exhale when Dean’s mouth slid over his head.

Fingers held the base of Cas’s cock while Dean took Cas halfway and then to the back of his throat in steady rhythm. Cas’s fingers ran through Dean’s hair, gently resting on his head as it moved to and away from him. Dean’s tongue moved toward the base and back up his shaft again and again as he sucked, gripping Cas’s hips with both hands, pulling him even closer. Cas moaned, his hands covering his mouth, his face, running over his hair, and then through Dean’s. It was too much and so good. He finally felt the build, and told Dean to stop. Dean didn’t stop.

“I’m going to come,” he said through clenched teeth, his breathing stuttered. “I’m going to come. Dean… _fuck._ ” The intensity of the orgasm nearly buckled his knees. He grasped at the partition, Dean sucking and swallowing him down until he stopped. Dean steadied Cas and stood with a smile. He grabbed the back of Cas’s neck, pulling his face to his, and kissed him deeply. Cas kissed him back with the same passion. He felt like he was floating, the blood still not returned to his head. They were interrupted when the door chimed when someone came in.

Dean cleared his throat and smiled. “Just a minute.” The girls standing at the front desk giggled. Dean looked at Cas, his eyes bright.

“You…you didn’t have to do that,” Cas said, starting to feel embarrassed. He pulled his shirt over his head.

Resting his hand on the back of Cas’s neck, he moved in and kissed him fully and softly. He broke away and whispered, “What can I say? I just wanted to see how you tasted.” The girls at the front were whispering. Dean looked at Cas and sighed. “Pause?”

Cas nodded. Dean went to the sink in the back room and washed his hands, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He looked down to Cas’s pants that were still undone and winked as he walked past, taking a mouthful of water.

“How can I help you ladies?”

Cas buttoned his pants and fixed his belt. He sat down on his stool and rolled back against the wall, leaning his head back and rubbing his face with his hands. He stared blankly at the partition for a moment before breaking out into a quiet laugh, smiling bigger than he ever remembered smiling. 


	5. Slow Burn

Cas hid in the back of the shop in his giddy state while Dean talked to the girls and was mortified when Dean called for him to come to the front. He triple checked to make sure everything was in its place, not wanting to go up front and not realize his fly was undone. He tried to walk casually to the front desk, smoothing his shirt. The girls sitting on the couch giggled and he wanted to roll his eyes, but controlled himself.

“Hey Cas, this is Kim. She’s wanting to get a dragonfly tattoo and we’re hoping you can draw one up for her. She’ll come back Tuesday to get it, but maybe she can explain what she’s looking for to you.” Dean flashed a huge grin at Cas, and his eyes were screaming at him to help him get rid of the tittering girls on the couch.

Cas grabbed a piece of paper and pencil from the desk and talked to Kim, finding out the girls were her little sister and her friend who she was forced to take with her. She apologized for them and told him what she was looking for, how big, and where to put it. They talked color while Dean went through the appointment calendar and penciled her in, taking her deposit. When the girls left, Kim was scolding them in a hushed whisper.

Dean stood up from Anna’s chair and slid his hand around Cas’s middle as he stepped toward him. He looked him in the eyes, admiring the gorgeous blues staring back at him. His voice dipped nervously, lowered to a bit of a whisper. “This feels really intense, and I don’t want to rush things or make something of it that it’s not, but I want to let you know that there are things I would love to do with you right now, but I think we shouldn’t dive headfirst into this. Not full throttle anyway.  I don’t want this to burn out fast, because I know I’ve made mistakes before and I don’t want me to be one for you.”

Cas didn’t know what to say. He wanted to echo everything Dean had said, but also wanted him to suggest maybe they go back to his place. He was torn. The fuse had been lit and he was ready to explode, but Dean was right – a slow burn would be the way to go. He nodded finally in some acknowledgement of what Dean was saying. Dean walked around him to go lock up the front door and turn off the OPEN sign, and as he went, his hand drug around Cas’s body, his fingers lingering at the touch, not wanting to let go. Cas exhaled sharply when Dean’s fingers finally left his side. This was going to be torture.

Dean locked the front door and turned off the lights, working his way back to the rear of the shop. Cas went to pack up his things, wanting to hurry out into the cold air to maybe shock him into thinking about something other than Dean’s touch. He tidied up his station, turning off the last lights as he went, and started toward the back door in the darkness of the shop when Dean caught his arm and turned him.

“Hey,” he said.

That was all it took.

Cas was overtaken, possessed. He pressed his body against Dean’s, catching Dean’s mouth as it fell open in surprise with a well-received kiss. Dean fell back against his doorframe, Cas’s hands on the sides of his face, one drifting to his throat. His lips had started to burn by the time he moved to Dean’s neck.  Dean took Cas’s hand that was pressed into his throat and collarbone and slid it down his body and onto his jeans, pushing his hand against his growing cock. Cas turned his gaze to Dean, who was biting his lip and looking back at Cas with longing. He stared into his green eyes and slowly unbuckled Dean’s belt, unbuttoning his jeans, sliding his hands down the inside of his waistband. Cas moved his hands around to Dean’s backside, gripping his ass with a massaging squeeze. Dean moved to kiss him, but Cas backed away, pulling his hands back around the front of Dean’s waistband and tugging down his jeans. He moved to his knees, one hand pressed against Dean’s stomach, pushing him into the doorframe while the other grabbed his cock, willfully taking it into his mouth. He moved slowly, just tasting his skin at the tip at first, moving down a little more with each movement, ever so slightly until he went all the way, taking every inch of Dean into his mouth. Cas moved his hand down Dean’s stomach, caressing his hip and thigh. He tilted Dean’s erection up, skimming his bottom lip from the base of his cock to his head, allowing his heavy breath with the coolness of the room to cause Dean to shudder at the sensation. When he reached his head, he grazed his lips over it again and again, with just the slightest touch, until Dean couldn’t handle it anymore.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he whispered, running his hand through Cas’s hair and gripping the back of his head with fingers clenched in his locks that were just long enough to start to have a bit of curl. Dean rolled his back, pushing his hips toward Cas and pulling Cas’s head toward him, forcing his mouth further down on his cock.

Cas could tell Dean was resisting the urge to fuck his mouth, the sucking in of air through clenched teeth and increasing intensity of the tugs of his hair. He knew Dean was right – he was being a little shit about it, but everything about it felt so good. He looked up at Dean and smiled as he stroked his cock, and saw his eyes soften with a pleading look, practically begging for Cas to put his mouth back on him. He chuckled slightly and kept stroking Dean at the base while he lowered his mouth onto him, listening to Dean moan as he slowly went further. He moved his hand, taking his lips to the base, letting Dean sit in his mouth for a moment while he slid his tongue along the left side then the right. He had little room to do so, impressed with Dean’s size. His girth left little room in Cas’s mouth for much of his tongue action, which was his favorite thing to do – but he wasn’t complaining. Cas started moving quicker, enjoying the quiet noises of pleasure Dean made. The sounds tipped him over the edge of arousal, and as he pushed his mouth down on Dean again, he moaned, sending a vibration through Dean that set him off. 

Dean’s knees started to shake and he caught himself on the door frame, whispering to Cas about coming. Feeling reciprocal, he ignored Dean’s warnings and took the load into his mouth, waiting for him to finish before standing and excusing himself to the sink. When he came back, Dean had his face in his hands, leaning against the wall. A big black ring on his finger shone in the dark, the light from the moon outside reflecting off of it.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked. “I…I hope that was okay.”

Dean’s hands fell from his face. “Dude are you shitting me? That…just shut up.” He blushed and pulled Cas toward him, licking open Cas’s nervous mouth, kissing him fully.

Cas felt his stomach drop. He knew if he didn’t get out of there right then, he wouldn’t be going home – at least not alone. The intensity of the attraction was more than he initially thought. He wasn’t sure if it was just lust overpowering the both of them, but either way, he needed to make a quick exit.

“Dean,” Cas said when they stopped for air, his voice low.  “I have to go.”

“Why?” Dean whispered, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

“Because,” Cas started, reaching around Dean and sliding his hands over his ass, “if I don’t leave now, I’m going to fuck you.”

Dean stopped and leaned back, giving Cas a puzzled look. Cas worried that maybe he’d overstepped. Maybe Dean didn’t like being fucked.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises,” he said, taking Cas’s hand and moving it to his dick which Cas could feel was still half-hard through his jeans. “Maybe one day you will,” he said with a cheeky grin. “But you have to go to dinner with me first.” He smiled down his nose at Cas, his head leaned back against the wall while he moved Cas’s hand over the bulge in his pants on the inside of his leg. He bit his lip, contemplating something. “Come to dinner with me and Sam and Sarah tomorrow, then if it all goes well, come back to my place. And if you want, I’ll let you fuck me.”

Cas couldn’t breathe. He needed to leave or god knows what he’d do right then. “It’s a date then,” he answered, pushing his hand against Dean’s growing bulge. He moved his face closer to Dean’s. Dean reached out, pulling Cas toward him, pressing Cas’s body against his so he could feel his cock through his pants. Cas kissed him softly and whispered, “I need to leave, Dean. Now.”

“Me too,” Dean said. He blushed. “What the hell are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” Cas answered. “All I know is we’re trouble.”

“So much trouble,” Dean laughed. He kissed Cas one more time, both finding it hard to break away. “Okay you go. Get home safe. I’ll call you tomorrow about dinner.”

“I look forward to it.” Cas bounced on his heels for a moment and then practically bolted out the door, walking quickly in the brisk air toward Gabe’s apartment, a ridiculous grin spread across his face.

 

Gabe knocked on Cas’s bedroom door softly and slowly opened it, staring down at his little brother who he sometimes forgot was a grown man. It was hard to see him like that when he was spread out under the covers, lying diagonally across a full size bed to fit comfortably, one arm shoved under and over the pillow. Cas’s right arm hung haphazardly over the side of the bed, nearly knocking into the glass of water on his nightstand. His mouth hung open in a half smile, with soft snores rolling out.

“This dork,” Gabe whispered with a smile. He wanted to wake him up, but thought maybe he’d let him sleep a little while longer.

 

The smell of coffee and bacon had Cas rolling himself out of bed, still smiling. His cheeks hurt, not used to the sensation. He pulled on a pair of boxers he only used to wear around the apartment and ventured out into the living room and kitchen. Gabe stood at the stove flipping bacon with a fork in one hand, stirring scrambled eggs with a spatula in the other.

“Can I be of help?” Cas asked.

“Oh hey, you’re up. Sure, if you can get plates and forks, I’ll have these done pretty quick.”

Cas couldn’t see the clock, but the light coming in through the window was pretty bright. “Did I wake up early or are you just making a really late breakfast?”

“Ah, I thought I’d let you sleep,” Gabe answered. “You were super cute, drooling and snoring.”

“I don’t drool,” Cas said, narrowing his eyes at Gabe.

“Anyway, I figure you’re going to be busy and I may not see much of you this week, so I’d make us a good brunch.”

“Speaking of…being busy…I might not make it home tonight.” Cas put his head in the fridge, searching for juice he could clearly see to avoid Gabe’s stare.

“Oh _really?_ And what, pray tell, will you be up to young sir?”

“I’m having dinner with Sam and Sarah." Cas paused. "And Dean.”

“A double date, you say? How fun.”

Cas wanted to snipe back at him, but he couldn’t argue and made no comment.

“Not that I want to know the details,” Gabe said to preface his question, “but how are things between you and Sons of Anarchy?”

Cas blushed. He looked at Gabe, trying to hold back a grin, and gave a small shrug.

“Good lord man, have some decency! You should be ashamed, speaking to your elders about such filthy things,” Gabe teased, filling a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast and sliding it to Cas’s spot at the counter. “That good huh?”

“I don’t know, to be perfectly honest.”

“Well, you look happy. That’s got to account for something.”

“I’m just not used to feeling…a certain way…about people.” Cas settled into his seat and picked up a fork.

“Like you want to have a secret love affair and ravish every inch of their body?”

Cas chuckled, his face turning red. “You’re probably closer than you wish you were.”

“Gross,” Gabe said. “But awesome. That’s got to feel great.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, drunk bastards nearly every night of the week and my pillow. We have a complicated relationship.”

“Seriously Gabriel, you should get out and get a secret love affair of your own.”

“Maybe some time when I’m not working constantly.” Gabe looked down, his eyes looking lonely, and picked at his eggs. “Eat your food.”


	6. Dinner and A Little More

Light knocks on the apartment door got Gabe to get up from his recliner where he was watching a game. Cas looked up from his book, trying to keep a straight face. Gabe opened the door to see a tiny tattooed brunette leaning against the door frame holding a 2-liter bottle of soda and a bucket of fried chicken.

“I come bearing gifts.”

“Hello strange lady that sometimes comes into the bar. _Cas!_ ” Gabe yelled. He waved elegantly to welcome Ruby in and quickly walked over to his brother who was peering over the top of his book like a toddler trying to hide.  “First of all, stop trying to be adorable. It’s not going to get you out of this,” he yelled in a whisper. “Secondly, what is this? You’re leaving in an hour. Are you taking her _with_ you? Or are you trying to set me up with this girl who’s like, what, _ten years_ younger than me?”

“She’s really a fun girl. Sweet, even,” Cas tried to explain, sitting up from his reclining position on the couch. Gabe rolled his eyes. Cas continued to plead his case. “And she had no plans for tonight. She likes football. And French fries. Please don’t be mad, but if I didn’t do something you’d be sitting here all night watching the game alone and I hate that, Gabe. I truly do.”

Gabe threw his head back in defeat. “Fine.”

“And she brought soda instead of beer because she knows you don’t drink. Isn’t that thoughtful?”

“You’re pushing your luck.”

Cas set his book on the end table and put up his hands. “I’m going to go get ready now.” He stood and walked past Ruby standing in the kitchen, eating a drumstick and pouring herself a glass of water. “I sincerely hope you have fun tonight. Thank you for coming over.”

“No problem angel face. I just hope he doesn’t feel weird. And that he doesn’t talk through the game. That’s a real turn off.”

Cas chuckled silently to himself and went to get dressed. He stole a blue button down from Gabe’s closet that matched his eyes. They were going to a nice restaurant, but nothing too fancy. To balance his jeans and Converse, he reluctantly put on a long black tie, dressing himself up a little bit. He stood for a moment in front of the mirror behind the door straightening the tie, looking at his growing beard and how he’d let his hair grow out just enough for it to look messy in a good way without any effort. He shook out his arms, and rolled his head right to left, trying to breathe calmly to trick his heart into not racing. Just the thought of being close to Dean sent him spinning. He’d never felt this deeply drawn to someone, and if he was being honest with himself, he was frightened. That tug of fear that made him want to run was pulling at him, but the only thing pulling back harder was this attachment to Dean.

He said his goodbyes and goodnights to Gabe and Ruby and walked quickly down the stairs of the building, taking long strides once he made it outside. A jacket would have been a good idea, but he had forgotten it in his haste to get out of the apartment and didn’t want to have to run back up. The cool air was good for him, he decided. His nervousness was making him feel like he was about to sweat, so the chill was welcome in calming him down. He made it just over a block when a car pulled up next to him.

“Hey stranger, need a ride?” Sarah’s voice came from the passenger seat of the SUV.

“Get in,” Sam said. “You should have said something. We’d have picked you up. You shouldn’t have to walk to dinner.”

“I was just getting some air,” Cas said, climbing in behind Sarah. She was shorter than Sam, so he had more room for his legs behind her.

“Well you should have called Dean to come and get you,” Sam said. His tone hinted that he’d be mentioning it to his brother.

“Or us,” Sarah added. She half turned around in her seat to see Cas. “I’m glad you came out with us. I’m excited to see what you guys come up with for the show. I know it’s short notice, and I’m terribly sorry about it, but I know whatever you come up with will be great.” Her smile was sweet and genuine. Cas liked her very much. He watched her turn back around and simply place her hand palm up on the center console, and Sam placed his hand on hers, giving it a squeeze. The feeling of wanting to flee came over him again, and he pushed it down.

The three of them went into the restaurant and got their table, letting the hostess know that another member of their party would be arriving. Cas still felt underdressed by a little, nervously pressing his tie to his shirt. Sarah ordered wine, and they made small talk about the show and other projects Sarah had worked on in the past when Dean rounded the corner. Cas had to catch his breath. His beard groomed and hair combed back, he looked like something out of a magazine. He wore jeans and a vintage band shirt under a black blazer with nice shoes.  He looked at Cas and winked as he sat down next to his brother. He moved his chair a little closer to Cas, but Cas wished he would keep his distance. It was going to be hard to concentrate on anything but wanting to get Dean home.

“We found Cas walking down the road. I told him he should have called you to pick him up,” Sam said.

“He should have,” Dean agreed, looking at Cas. “You know all you had to do was call and I’d have given you a ride.”

Sam kicked Dean’s foot and Sarah blushed, obviously not unaccustomed to Dean’s way of speaking. She changed the subject, asking about Cas’s travels and were all he had lived over the years. He told her stories of travelling all over New York and then to Washington, D.C. working galleries, setting up art pieces and working on his own, selling them on the street or if he could get space somewhere. He didn’t fair too badly for a few years, and got a temporary gig in Chicago as an assistant to a curator that led to another in San Antonio, Seattle, then Salt Lake. When Gabe finally got him to come back, he was in St. Louis working on City Museum. He'd made a quick trip to Chicago to finish some business before coming home. Sarah was in awe of his stories, but he assured her that it wasn’t as fun in life as it was on paper. She took the hint to not ask too much detail, and moved on.

The wine arrived and the table ordered, talking about anything and everything while they waited. A hearty meal and two bottles of wine later, they had lost track of time and were laughing at stories of Sam and Dean as teenagers. Sarah finally realized how late it was and nudged Sam, tapping her watch once. He looked at his, and saw it was nearly ten.

“Holy smokes, we should get going,” Sam said. He waved the waiter over and asked for the check, handing him his card.

“Sam,” Dean protested.

“No, our treat. You’re doing Sarah a favor hosting this show Friday. It’s the least we can do.”

“And thank you so much,” Sarah added. “Not just for the show, but the good company.” She smiled warmly at Cas. “Oh!” she added with a start, “What was it you guys were doing? I forgot to ask.”

Dean looked at Cas. “We have a few works in progress we think you’ll enjoy.”

She eyed Dean and then Cas and grinned knowingly. “I like you Cas. You could straighten this one out,” she said nodding to Dean.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“Okay break it up you kids,” Sam said. “I need to get my wife home.” He pulled out Sarah’s chair and she stood, moving to Cas who stood as well to hug her goodbye. She hugged Dean and tugged his beard and Sam guided her out to the car.

Cas and Dean followed them out, waving as they pulled off. They stood in awkward silence. Dean leaned against a brick pillar of the entry and Cas rocked back and forth on his heels, wondering if he should just head home.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Dean asked, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight.

“I…have no idea,” Cas admitted. He coughed and cleared his throat. The electricity they had shared wasn’t gone, but was shifted somehow. The feeling only fed his instinct to just pack up and find another place to settle.

“Come back to my place,” Dean suggested. “Have a beer. We can work on the art for the show or talk or whatever….” Dean too sensed the strangeness and wanted to remedy it however he could.

Cas nodded and followed Dean to his car, getting in the passenger seat. They drove a few miles away to his apartment complex, a new area, gated and nice. Dean climbed the stairs on the outside of the building instead of going inside and went straight up to the fourth floor side door, going in. He pulled out the keys for his place right on the end of the row, and opened the door. He looked down at his shoes as he let Cas in, not saying a word.

Dean’s apartment was contemporary and clean with mostly white walls. A black wall took up the farthest side of the apartment, covered in framed art and metal signs. The hardwood floors had a few rugs here and there, and black leather recliners accompanied the sofa facing the television hanging above a false fireplace lit by a light switch. His dining room that they were standing in had a black pub table, and his small kitchen was past it. There was a dimly lit hallway, running between the counter that looked into the kitchen and the wall the fireplace and TV were on, that Cas assumed led to the bathroom and bedrooms.

“Well this is home,” Dean said, unbuttoning his jacket and laying it over the back of a pub chair.

“It’s very nice,” Cas said, his hands shoved in his pockets, arms locked.

Dean walked over. “Let me fix this,” he said, his eyes flitting up to Cas’s and back at the tie he held in his hands, alluding to another meaning in his words. Cas’s tie had become twisted and flipped backwards. Dean smoothed it back the right way, running his knuckles down Cas’s chest and stomach.  “Listen, I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. If you just want to be friends, and stop where we’re at right now, you just have to say so.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Cas blurted out. Suddenly the stone in his stomach was back, the desire and uncertainty flooding over him. “I want to be friends, but I’d like it if…maybe….”

“A little more?” Dean offered. Cas nodded. “I know how I come off, but I need you to know that _this_ , us, whatever is happening, isn’t something I’d joke about. I wouldn’t joke about this,” he said, touching Cas’s face. He leaned in and pressed his lips on Cas’s so gently Cas couldn’t be sure he was there.

Cas needed to feel Dean was truly there with him, lips touching his. He returned the kiss, taking his time to enjoy the moment, allowing it to feel real. Dean’s lips were remarkably soft. Dean began to kiss him more fervently, and as soon as he did, Cas felt grounded and present. He no longer felt lost and floating and scared of what was happening. He needed this. Dean pulled at his tie, his fingers working to undo the knot while he slowed things down, drawing out his kisses, taking advantage of Cas’s full lips. He broke away when he finally got the tie undone, staring at Cas while he pulled it off and laid it over the back of the chair next to his jacket.

“This color looks good on you,” he said as he started unbuttoning Cas’s shirt. “It makes your eyes….” Dean cleared his throat.

“Thank you.” Cas smiled and looked down. He found it amusing that this cavalier man who was so confident in his presence and could talk about sex with anyone in public was secretly intimate and couldn’t seem to get out a compliment in private with just the two of them. “I never got to see your tattoos,” he mentioned. Dean smiled, crinkles deepening in the corners of his eyes.

“That’s true.” He started to take off his shirt and stopped with his shirt halfway up. “Are you just trying to slowly get me naked?”

“That could be a possibility,” Cas admitted.

Dean shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head. “Well there’s _my_ crow, feathers, and pocket watch,” he said, pointing to the black and grey tattoos on his arm that bled into the compass on his hand and _Love_ across his fingers. _On borrowed time_ was written in a traditional banner above the pocket watch with a date in a banner below. “And there’s my cassette tape, my car, gears, and music on this one.” A lock and key were on either side of the base of his throat, a pen and inkwell on the side of his neck, a skull on the other with a red rose behind it. The words _I’ll Fly Away_ were written in script across his chest, a bird on one pectoral, a cage on the other. He turned around to show Cas his back piece, the depiction of Saint Michael the archangel coming down with a choir of angels with his sword, his foot on the Devil’s neck, demons reaching out from below.

“That’s beautiful,” Cas said, admiring the work. It was scene he recognized, and the artistry was great. He was distracted though, noticing the muscles underneath Dean’s skin that were almost contradictory to how soft his body looked. He wasn’t ripped with chiseled abs and pecs, but he was unbelievably sexy and unmistakably muscled.

He turned around. “I also have one on my thigh, if you’d like to see it,” he said coyly.

Cas smiled. “Absolutely.”

Dean stood in front of Cas without his shirt and took off his belt, placing it alongside Cas’s tie and his jacket. He stared at Cas when he unbuttoned his jeans, his face serious, pulling down his pants. Cas seemed to have forgotten he didn’t wear underwear. Dean stepped out of his jeans and moved them aside with his foot.

“This one is pretty intricate. I did it myself,” he said, pointing at a complicated sigil that took up his entire thigh.

“That’s…impressive,” Cas said looking down at the tattoo, distracted by Dean’s cock hanging out. He couldn’t move. He knew he was supposed to do something. They were standing so close together it would be ridiculous if he didn’t touch him. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. He lifted his hand and traced the words _I’ll Fly Away_ on Dean’s chest. The touch reignited Cas. “I love that song,” Cas whispered. “I’m not much into the religious aspect, but I relate to the rest.”

Dean took Cas’s shirt off and let it fall to the floor. “Are we really going to stand here and discuss our favorite gospel songs?” He put his arms behind Cas’s back and locked them, pulling Cas to him until they were pressed together. He just let his eyes wander over Cas’s face, looking at his eyelashes and his lips, the way his facial hair just kind of went wild, and finally landed on his sharp eyes that were busy chasing the freckles across Dean's face.

“You’re kind of beautiful,” Cas said as he studied Dean’s lashes and the curve of his nose, his perfect lips.

“Shut up.”

“No really, you are.” He turned his head as if contemplating Dean’s eyes and then kissed him, pressing his mouth hard to the lips that fit his, parting them, moving more passionately than before. Cas’s desire had grown to a fever pitch, his need to touch and be touched by Dean negated the nervousness he had been feeling.

Dean grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him down the hallway and into his room, pushing him backward onto the bed as he rounded the side and turned on a reading lamp that sat on his nightstand. He crawled onto the bed to Cas who had moved back until he was leaning against the black leather cushioned headboard. Dean unbuttoned Cas’s jeans and grabbed hold of the waistband, pulling down hard to take them off in one movement, casting them aside. He sat on his heels, looking at Cas and let out a shallow whistle.

“And you call me beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

Dean leaned over him, running his fingers along his hipbones. “Scandalous,” he whispered, lowering his face to Cas’s skin, kissing his hipbones. He quickly kissed the tip of Cas’s cock and moved his body over Cas, leaning an arm down to be close to his face. “I told you I’d let you fuck me. You wanna give it a try?”

Cas breathed out and covered his face with his hands, feigning a scream. He put his hands down on the bed and looked at Dean. “Oh, do I ever.”

Dean sat back on his heels again and started stroking his thick cock. “In the drawer. It’ll come in handy later,” he said, nodding.

Cas rolled over and pulled out a fancy clear pump bottle of lube and sat it on the bed next to him. He laid flat on the bed and grabbed Dean’s thighs, having him move over him, sitting on his chest.

“I wanna fuck your mouth first. Is that okay? If not, please say so.” Dean asked, very serious about getting Cas’s consent on the matter.

Cas nodded, staring at the behemoth of a cock in front of his face, wondering how he was going to handle  _that_.  He laid his head against a pillow and Dean put his cock in Cas’s mouth, letting Cas suck and move his head up and down the shaft, breathing faster as Cas’s tongue started in on him. He leaned forward and gripped the headboard, rolling his hips with Cas’s motions, trying to not do too much too fast. A hand went up to help Cas manage, and another pumped lube into his hand. Cas rolled the lube around on his fingers, sliding them back and forth and around Dean’s hole, teasing him. Dean moved faster, and Cas stopped moving on his own, keeping his lips firm as Dean fucked his mouth, his hand grasping the headboard. Cas groaned which threw Dean into a fit of moans and cursing, which only got worse when Cas slid a finger into him. Dean stopped moving as he did, then waited as another slowly pushed in. Cas started moving again, sucking Dean off and putting more and more pressure on him. Dean pulled his cock out of Cas’s mouth and moved up off his heels, snatching a pillowcase off a pillow, coming onto it. Cas opened his mouth and sucked Dean’s balls that had grown taut as he came, which made Dean start to shake as he expended everything he had onto the pillowcase. Cas slid his fingers out, and Dean moved off of him, setting the pillowcase aside.

Cas sat up on the bed, waiting for Dean to regain his footing. His legs shook like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. Dean climbed back up onto the bed and lay down on his back, a hand above his head and another draped across his stomach. Cas took the lube and moved it down closer to him, pumping some into his hand and started stroking himself.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked Dean, trying to refrain from laughing.

“That depends,” Dean responded.

Cas moved his body over Dean’s, scooping down to kiss his stomach, working his way up to Dean’s face. “Do you want it slow or rough?” he whispered, continuing to stroke his cock.

Dean’s eyes widened. “You really are just full of surprises.” He swallowed hard and his breath quickened. “Rough and hard,” he said. “Fuck me hard.”

Almost before he could finish answering, Cas was kissing him, biting his lip. His animalistic drive took over, sucking Dean’s neck and biting his chest. He hitched Dean’s legs up and pressed his knees to his chest. Dean’s eyes looked into Cas’s, nervous and excited. Cas paused for a moment, putting his hand to the side of Dean’s face. He leaned into it, that remarkably intimate gesture again catching Cas off guard. Dean kissed Cas’s thumb as it traced his lips.

“I won’t hurt you,” Cas promised. “If you want me to stop –“

“I’ll let you know,” Dean said. He nodded for Cas to go ahead.

Dean took a deep breath in as Cas pushed into him. Cas put his weight on the back of Dean’s legs, leaning forward as he bore down on him, slowly first. When he was sure Dean was ready, Cas started pounding in steady, heavy strokes. He lowered himself down, pushing into Dean harder with each movement until he was fucking him so hard they both were sweating. Whimpers escaped Dean, but when Cas took notice Dean nodded for him to keep going. Cas pulled the back of Dean’s head toward him, kissing him deep as his thrusts caused his upper thighs to bounce of Dean’s flawless ass. Their breath became labored, foreheads pressed together as sweat beaded on their bodies.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Cas grunted out, “you feel _so good_.”

“Fuck me, Cas,” Dean whispered, his voice shaking. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

He whined when Cas went even faster. Dean grabbed the back of Cas’s neck, his eyes clenched shut, fingers digging into Cas’s skin. Cas felt the build and let out a pleasured moan, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Dean’s thighs, pounding into him as he felt he was going to come. He waited until he was on the brink before pulling out, pointing himself at Dean’s stomach as he came.

 

Dean panted, rubbing Cas’s thigh as Cas cleaned Dean up. He collapsed next to Dean, the two basking in their afterglow.

“I did not peg you for a biter. Or a top, for that matter.”

“And nothing about you suggested you were a bottom.”

“I guess we’re a better fit that we thought,” Dean said, letting is head fall to the side so he could look at Cas. “Stay the night?”

Cas was intrigued with how soft-hearted this gruff man was. “If you want me to, I’d be happy to stay.”

“Good,” Dean said throwing an arm over Cas. He popped up for a second to kiss Cas on the chest before falling back onto his pillow that was missing its case.


	7. A Hands On Approach

“So why did you come back?” Dean asked, staring at the ceiling and scratching his bearded jaw before turning to look at Cas. “You didn’t come back when he…passed. Why’d you come back now?”

Cas rocked his head back into his pillow and sighed. “I have no good excuse for my absence. When Dad died, I didn’t know if I _could_ come home. And then I realized how selfish it was of me to just leave Gabe alone like that, taking off to begin with, letting him deal with Dad all those years just because he and I were at odds, and then I just left him abandoned after losing his father. I realized that as much as I was going through, he had the added weight of worry that a big brother carries.”

Dean huffed. “Yeah, I know a little about that.”

“But Sam turned out just fine. Why would you be worried about him?” Cas turned his eyes to Dean, changing the subject.

He cleared his throat. “Our mom died when we were young. Sammy was only six months old. Dad died…shit, coming up on eight years ago? He was a bit of a drinker, and I took care of Sam since I can remember.”

“That must have been difficult. If it helps, from an outside point of view, you did a wonderful job. Sam is a good man from what I can tell.” 

Dean chuckled. “Thanks. He’s a good kid.”

"And you aren’t so bad yourself.” Cas turned up one side of his mouth in a small smile.

“I’m a mess,” Dean said as he exhaled, a tone of self-loathing in his voice accompanying the drawn out words.  

Cas turned toward him, holding the back of his head up with his hand. “How so?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? I’m a train wreck.” Cas still waited for a legitimate response. Dean rubbed his face with his hands and stared up at the ceiling. “A few years ago I got my shit together, but there was a time after Sam left for school and I was alone that I just didn’t care about anything anymore. Just booze and sex, usually in that order. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of and don’t remember much, but Sam kind of slapped the shit out of me when he transferred back here to finish school and sobered me up a bit, got me moving in the right direction. Reminded me of who I was, what I wanted to do, and who I _didn’t_ want to be.” He looked over at Cas, who was listening intently. “Okay, you got my tragic backstory, minus the gory details. You happy?”

It felt as if he were watching a movie. Cas shut down at the question. He heard himself say with a bit of flirtation, “ _I actually am_ ,” and he meant it, he knew he did, but it didn’t take away from the fear that foreign feeling of contentment gave him.  Dean’s eyes looked confused, then worried as he looked at Cas. He leaned up, mirroring Cas’s position in the bed and rested his hand on the side of Cas’s face. Cas closed his eyes at the touch.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” He opened his eyes, greeted by Dean’s affectionate stare as he moved in to kiss him. A brief touch of Dean’s lips brought him back into the moment. “I’m definitely fine. I’m better than fine, actually.”  Cas thought for a moment. “Roll over onto your stomach.” Dean looked at him with hesitation. “Just trust me.”

Dean rolled over, still looking wary at Cas’s intention. Cas crawled over Dean to the drawer where he’d gotten the lube earlier. He had noticed a bottle of massage oil, and pulled it out. He straddled Dean, sitting on his ass.

“Are you serious? Are you going to give me a massage?” Dean asked, his voice melting into the pillow in happy anticipation.

“I’ve been told I have magic hands.”

“Have you now? Well let’s see how that reputation stands up.”

Cas drizzled the oil onto Dean’s back and started working it in with his hands. Dean’s skin soaked it up, and it wasn’t long before he had to add more oil. He kneaded his strong back muscles, trying to get the knots in his lower back out. Cas pressed up from Dean’s lower back to his shoulder blades, massaging his shoulders and neck, his arms, taking the time to admire his tattoos as he moved his hands against Dean’s thick body. Dean moaned into the pillow the entire time, getting more and more relaxed, allowing his body to sink into the mattress.

“Why are you doing this?” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Do you want me to stop?” Cas asked.

“No! No, keep going, it’s glorious. I just…you don’t have to do this.”

Cas moved off of Dean’s ass and poured more oil onto his hands. “It’s my pleasure. Plus it gives me an excuse to put my hands on you.”

“Well you have my permission to touch me anytime – especially if you’re doing this.”

Cas smiled as he worked Dean’s thighs, eliciting another round of moans. He moved his way back up from the back of his thighs to his ass. Dean tensed up at first, but after Cas started massaging him he relaxed.

“Oh my god, your hands _are_ magic.”

Cas wiped the remnants of the cedar-scented oil on his thighs. He looked at Dean’s ass and had the overwhelming urge to bite it. He debated for a moment, wondering if he should just lay back down beside Dean, but he realized that if this night couldn’t be about them overwhelming themselves with each other, what was the point? Cas leaned down, taking Dean’s rump between his teeth, biting softly and closing his mouth around Dean’s skin with a kiss. Dean hadn’t moved, still relaxed from the massage. He brushed Dean's skin with his hands, containing his desire to be rough with him, trying to take it slow. Dean moved his hips, grinding against the bed.  Not saying anything, but raising up a bit off the bed, he invited Cas to do more. Cas chuckled softly to himself as he admired the sexy, solid body of the man lying out in front of him in the soft light from the lamp. He took up the bottle of lube, warming some in his fingers. He rubbed Dean’s cheek with one hand, teasing his hole, sliding his thumb back and forth. Dean squirmed. flattening his body against the mattress, tilting his ass up toward Cas, slowly spreading his bowlegs out across the bed.  He lubed his hand and stroked himself, having grown hard just looking at Dean’s tattooed body sprawled out on the mattress. He found it amusing that Dean wouldn’t voice what he wanted in this moment, as if he was embarrassed to tell him what to do after telling him to fuck him hard just an hour before. He continued running his slick hand over his cock, leaning forward, taking advantage of his rocked-back hips to press himself onto Dean, breathing in deep as he pushed in slowly. Dean moaned into the pillow, his muscled arms bracing himself. He arched his back as Cas leaned over him, pushing back onto Cas’s cock. Cas felt him tighten and relax again as he moved, causing his breath to stutter. He rolled his hips forward, going in deep, beginning a relaxed, deliberate rhythm that had both of them gripping at the sheets. Cas kissed the base of Dean’s neck, whispering into his skin how good he felt. Dean shuddered as Cas’s breath moved across his skin, the hair on the back of his neck standing up and his skin prickling down his arms, a chill running through him. He grew greedy, the slow fuck only mocking his needs.

“ _Fuck me, Cas_ ,” he whispered, his forehead pressed into his forearms bracing him on the bed. “ _Please, just fuck me_.” The pressure felt so good, but he wanted to be fucked and couldn’t take the gradual build anymore. He needed Cas with terrible desperation.

Cas obliged, quickening his pace, but only slightly. He knew it was driving Dean crazy, but he was enjoying taking his time, feeling every bit of tension and release in Dean’s body. He drove harder and deeper, bringing Dean to push his face down further into the mattress, covering his head with the pillow as he moaned and cried out obscenities. When he came up for air, Cas ran his hand through the back of Dean’s hair, gripping and pulling it slightly back, then raked his fingertips down Dean’s neck. Cas gripped Dean’s arms as he felt the build thrusting three more times before he started to withdraw, letting his cock rest in between the groove at the top of Dean’s ass as he came, his come spilling onto Dean’s back, running down. Dean collapsed, and Cas followed suit, falling on his back next to Dean on the bed. Dean looked over at Cas and smiled.

 “Come on,” Dean said, grabbing Cas’s forearm and pulling him up, “let’s get cleaned up.”

Dean led him to the bathroom where he started the shower, tile and glass with a big stainless steel shower head. He pulled two towels out and put them in front of the shower. Dean was a mess – Cas’s come on his back and his own on his front. He stepped into the shower and held the door open for Cas. The shower steamed up quickly, and Dean handed Cas a washcloth with shower gel cupped in it. He cleaned himself up quickly and rinsed, watching Dean take his time enjoying the hot water running over him. Dean opened his eyes and wiped the water out of his face, smiling at Cas who leaned in to kiss him, looking exceptionally sexy while wet. Cas took a small loofa out of Dean’s hand and added shower gel to it and started to scrub him in a circular motion across his chest, having him turn and let him scrub his shoulders and back. Dean turned back around and put his arm around Cas, pulling him to his body, his tongue slowly rolling through Cas’s mouth, kissing him deep. Cas fell into his kiss, sucking his bottom lip, mouths entwined until the water ran cold.

Dean reached behind him and turned off the water, having been rinsed off at least five minutes before. “Our brothers are right. We _are_ trouble, aren’t we?”

Cas laughed. “Maybe a little bit.”

Dean stripped the bed and Cas helped him put new sheets on. They fell onto the fresh linens, the scent of Dean’s shower gel and fabric softener wafting up over them. Dean’s arm behind Cas, he pulled him close and kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

“How could I leave?”

Dean just smiled at him and rolled over to his side. Cas sidled up behind him, wrapping his arm around Dean, and they fell asleep.

 

They slept in the next morning. Cas woke Dean up with a blow job that had him pressed against the headboard, wrinkling the sheets in his hand. Dean made them breakfast. They talked about everything and nothing until after noon when Cas decided it was time to leave. They made a promise to focus on work this week – no messing around until they get their paintings finished for the show. Dean drove Cas to Gabe’s building, and Cas walked up the stairs to the apartment. He fished out his keys and stopped, feeling as if he hit a wall. He shook it off, just needing to get inside.

When he opened the door, Ruby was standing in the kitchen where he’d left her the night before, this time wearing one of Gabe’s football jerseys and nothing else, eating a slice of pizza from the box on the counter.

“Oh, _hi_ Cas! How was _your_ night?” she said, glaring at him with a murderous smile, daring him to say something.

“It was great,” he said, his face flushing red. “Hope yours was as well. I’m just going to…” he stalled as he tried to come up with something to do. “I’m going to go take a nap because I am still pretty tired.”

“You do that. You look worn out,” she said, adding a fake cough.

“I’ll see you later.” He nodded at her and made a swift exit to his room, where he kicked off his shoes and fell onto his bed with his clothes on. He pulled a quilt from the foot of the bed up over him and started to drift when that wall of indescribable dread that he was unfortunately all too familiar with hit him again.

Cas hated that this was happening. He couldn’t dislike the intimacy and how good everything about this felt to him, but the sense of grounding he had when Dean touched or kissed him felt too dependent, as if his ability to feel present and real was determined in some way by Dean. He recognized the broken pieces of him from the past in this response. Many times he had sought out sex or false affection just to feel as if he was loved when he was lost, even if it was just for a moment.  He didn’t need or want to be in love or to find a head-spinning romance; all he wanted was someone to genuinely love him that he could love back just as honestly. A true friend. Instead all he had found was one-night stands and unhealthy relationships, if they could even be called that. The gallery director’s assistant in Chicago, a museum curator in Seattle, a fellow artist in D.C. that had made him realize it wasn’t just girls he was interested in, a hotel concierge in San Antonio – none of them or the flings in between really meant anything. When it came down to it, he was too afraid for them to have meant something at all, glad to break it off and leave, starting anew somewhere else.

“Not this time,” he whispered to himself as he started to drift. "Not with him."


	8. A Hasty Decision

Cas kept his earbuds in from the moment he left the apartment and walked to the tattoo shop until he walked back home so he could recharge it and do it all again the next day. He was glad to have the time to think and focus on his art. There was a lot of work for him to do, and a lot of things to think about.

Working out his feelings about someone had always been a struggle. When he loved someone he really loved them, but not the way he thought he was supposed to. It never felt like he loved them the way he assumed they wanted him to.  Then again, he never stuck around long enough to ask how they wanted him to feel. He’d never been in love with someone and didn’t feel as if he ever would. He also didn’t want to keep someone who was in love with him in a relationship that felt false. Even one time experiencing that was painful enough, and Cas had had it happen again and again. Once things with Dean had started, everything moved so quickly that it was a blur. All he knew is that he wanted to be with Dean, but didn’t want to disappoint him in not being able to return his romantic notions.

The more time he had to think about it, the worse off he got. A little time to think about things would have been good; three days of nothing but Vitamin String Quartet and classical music playing the soundtrack to his painting project allowed too much time for thoughts to twist in his head. By the day of the art show, hearing the reverberation of Dean’s voice calling out to Anna from his office or catching his eye when he walked past in a hurry to fix some last detail was enough to make his stomach turn. Cas finished his first painting before he had left the previous night. It had been difficult to work on, recreating the lines and muscles of the shoulders and back he had kneaded the knots out of a few nights before. He’d left it for Dean on his workstation across the way, along with the second sketch of the heart he had asked for. Dean’s light was on in the office, so Cas taped a note to the door letting him know it was done.

He wasn’t sure if Dean had finished either painting, but by the rate he was going, Cas was too afraid to interrupt him to ask. Instead he focused on the other piece he wanted to do, something that he had been feeling all week. It was based on something he had written years before that he tucked away into the back of his portfolio, folded too many times. It had been titled “The Empty Vase,” which was fitting for how he was feeling about himself. Some things never changed.

Cas took to the square canvas quickly, using a thick continuous brushstroke to create an inverted vase the shape of an hourglass. He used black for his first pass, then purples and blues to highlight it with a series of smaller brushes. When he finished, he stood back to scrutinize the painting, but he was drained. If he was going to make it through the night, he was going to have to go get some rest. After staring at it a little longer, starting and stopping himself from making a different brush stroke here or there, he turned to see a note taped to the partition.

                _Go home. See you at eight. It looks good. Stop over analyzing. – Dean_

He started to smile for a second before his breath caught in his lungs. He took the note from the wall, folded it into quarters, and put it into his back pocket before exiting through the back, not even saying goodbye.

 

 

Cas stood in front of the mirror, straightening his tie the best he could. He had stolen another dress shirt from Gabe’s closet, this time a black button up that had a slight sheen to it. He picked a thin red tie, thinking that matching the interior of the shop would be representative of the studio in some way. Gabe’s black slacks were too big and Sam, who had kindly offered him a pair if he couldn’t find any, was too tall to borrow pants from. He was stuck wearing jeans, which he decided was completely fine. Leaving a note for Gabe on the kitchen counter explaining that he had to leave for a while, promising to be back after he cleared his head, Cas gathered his essentials into a bag and set it by the door for him to come by and scoop up later. He’d made the promise to come back soon before, and even though this time he meant it, he was sure Gabe would assume he was gone again. He hoped Gabe would realize he  had changed for the better and though he needed to leave for a short while, he liked what he had here. He tied his Converse, ran his fingers through his hair, threw on his jacket, and was out the door.

A few steps outside he looked at his watch. He was later than he’d wanted to be. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, Cas half-jogged down the sidewalk pushing through the chilly air, having had wanted to be at the shop about the same time he had left the building. There were people going in and out of the studio from the front, so he ran around back and came in unimpeded by the college students who were shuttling in pieces to hang on the walls.

Anna was directing traffic, delegating labeling and pricing to the leader of their group and telling them which work stations could be used to put works in as well. She left Ruby and Benny’s workstations open for Ruby and Dean to tattoo in while Anna and Benny made rounds. They had made two appointments for during the show to showcase the studio’s artists tattoo work as well as their artistry with sketches and paintings on the walls. They were friends who were veterans at being tattooed, so Ruby and Dean knew their clients and everything would go smoothly. Benny had roped off the entry to the two work stations and was affixing two framed rows of sketches he’d done to the wall above his area. Ruby was cleaning hers, only her head showing above the partitions as she worked, seemingly unaware of the chaos going on around her. Sarah was out front talking with some people Cas didn’t recognize who must have been from the college. He didn’t see Dean anywhere.

Cas knocked on Dean’s office door and heard nothing. There wasn’t any music playing either, so Cas turned the knob and found it unlocked. Dean’s chair held a mountain of coats he assumed were the rest of the crew’s. He took off his jacket and added it to the pile. Leaned against Dean’s desk were two canvases. Cas picked up the first, his painting he’d done of Dean’s shoulders and back, fragile black wings imposed on top of his body. He almost didn’t recognize his own work in the wings, painted as if sketched with charcoal with fine details. Dean had done an excellent job adding to Cas’s work. The heart was near exact to his drawing he’d giving Dean, with labels on the chambers of the heart reading _lust_ , _sacrifice,_ _love_ , and _pride_. He smiled at the telling words. They described Dean well. Cas set it aside, looking at the next canvas. His own shoulders and an outstretched arm took up the left side and the bottom of the painting, almost mirroring the stance of the other painting. The detail in the fingers of the hand was striking. Cas looked down at his hand and saw the long fingers his mother used to say would be great for playing piano and the familiar curve of his fingernails. He had done the wings before that part was finished, and he wondered how Dean had gotten such detailed work of his hands. Then he realized he must have been sketching them behind him while he was intently working earlier in the week, too drawn into his work to have noticed. The heart was full and muscled, with the chambers labeled as _fear, kindness, desire_ , and _patience_. Cas pressed his lips together and turned to leave when he saw a note stuck to the inside of the door.

_If you find these before I get back, go ahead and find a good spot for them, or have Anna do it. – Dean_

Cas picked up the paintings and raised them up above his head, calling Anna’s name. She held up a finger to the person she was talking to and ran back to him, taking one of the paintings in her hands.

“This is what you two were working on?” she gushed. “They’re amazing. They’re beautiful. Shit, I don’t know where to put them.” She looked around, the space around the studio getting covered pretty quickly. “I swear these kids thought we were the size of a gallery. I don’t know where they thought we were going to be able to display all of these. But there’s nothing back here. We can expand it all the way to your work space and just block off the little hall to the back room and Dean’s office. Shit, we’ll need the bathroom open. Whatever. Benny!” she called. 

Cas didn’t know how she was functioning with so much going on. Benny arrived holding a shallow box with labels, pens, and wall mounts Sarah had brought.

“What’s up, Red?”

“We need to hang these on the wall right here, one on top of the other,” Anna said, slapping the wall shared by Cas’s work station and Dean’s office. “And I’ll have Sarah come by and price them.” With that she took off to the front. “Ten minutes!” she called out loud enough for everyone to hear.

“These are pretty awesome,” Benny said as he leveled a wall mount at his eye level. “You and Dean did a great job.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, holding the level while Benny affixed the mount. “Do you know where Dean is? I haven’t seen him.”

“He went to get dressed, but that was over an hour ago. He should have been back by now.”

Cas assisted Benny with the two paintings and then asked for another mount for him to put up the other painting he had of the vase. He stood back to make sure it was straight on the wall next to the others when the back door burst open. Dean flew through it and into his office, slamming the door shut behind him. A playlist started, and “Girls/Girls/Boys” played out for everyone to hear. Anna was greeting people as they came in, offering a glass of red wine or snifter of whiskey.  Ruby looked up over her partition to Cas in the back and pointed to Benny’s station where Dean was supposed to be. Cas pointed to his office and Ruby waved her hand in exasperation. Cas took that as a signal to get him out. He started to knock and stopped.

Taking a deep breath he opened the door and just went in, shutting the door behind him. Dean was standing with his back toward the door wearing black dress slacks and a jacket, his hands on his hips.

“Hello, Dean.”

He turned and looked at Cas, his eyes angry. His hair was combed straight back, but a stray strand fell loose, adding a sense of dishevelment to the outrage on his face. 

“You were going to leave?” he yelled.

Cas’s face went white. His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out.

“Don’t even try to say anything. Gabe went home to get dressed and saw your note and your bag by the door. Must have just missed you, he said. I went by to see if he was all set up for tonight and he told me. He didn’t even want to come over here to talk to you because he was afraid you’d already be gone. If Sammy did that to me, I’d be heartbroken.” His face turned from concerned big brother to scorned lover. “So you were just gonna leave, just like that?” His face was still angry, but his eyes transitioned from hurt to rage. “You know what, I don’t have time to talk this shit right now.” Dean stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.


	9. Winds of Change

Cas looked down at his feet, then up to the ceiling. This is what he always moved quickly to avoid.  He hated himself for not even talking to Dean first. Something as simple as a conversation could have kept Cas from being in his head too much over the past few days and making decisions without having truly thought them through. He didn’t know how Dean even felt, he just knew he didn’t want to hurt him like this. Having Dean so angry at him caused the guilt to start rotting in his stomach. He couldn’t hide in his office all night. After a brief stop in the bathroom to splash water on his face, Cas ventured out into the party, being a wallflower to the upbeat scene. People poured in and fawned over the artwork. Anna and Benny gave interviews to a reporter while Sarah walked a few important looking people through the studio, discussing pieces. He eventually made his way through the crowd to check on Ruby and Dean. They were diligently working on their clients behind the rope sectioning people off. Dean had cast off his jacket, laying it over the partition between him and Ruby to not obstruct artwork being shown on the other side. His wore a red, white, and black vintage Black Sabbath tee shirt and sterile gloves, doing the outline for his buddy Ash’s PBR beer can tattoo. Ruby was working on a woman he’d heard her call Linda. Cas stood outside the work station and listened to the reporter who had moved on from Benny and Anna ask Dean questions. Dean was charming as usual and flashed his perfect smile at her a few times.

“Looking at all the local art and that of your own artists, do you have a personal favorite piece here at the show?” she asked.

“Well I haven’t had the chance to make the rounds and look at all the wonderful art that’s been brought in to show tonight, but I can tell you that we’ll be sad to lose Cas here as our in-house artist.” Dean looked at Cas and his face dropped for a moment before putting back up his usual front. “We have a collaborative work on the back wall and he has one of his own there too. Quite the talent.”

The reporter adjusted her glasses and turned to Cas. “Where are you headed to?”

Cas cleared his throat. “I’m not sure. Still haven’t decided if I’ll be leaving, actually. I’m not sure if it’s the right move for me right now. I’ve found quite the home here.” His eyes flashed to Dean who still looked scornful, returning his gaze back to his work. Ash rolled his eyes, sensing the tension.

“Why don’t you take her back to your station and show her those paintings?” Dean suggested without looking up.

Cas looked at the reporter and tilted his head, gesturing for her to follow him. He explained how he and Dean had split the work on the paintings, using their own styles to compliment the other. She seemed to like them very much, but wanted to know about his inverted vase.

“It’s on a plain white background, but for a simple design it has depth I wouldn’t expect from such a minimalist work. Tell me about it,” she said, holding her phone out in her hand to record his explanation.

“My father was very studied in theology and mythology. He was a professor here at the university years ago, actually. When we, my brother Gabe and I, were children, my mother would watch Julie Andrews movies with us all the time, and she loved Mary Poppins. She’d sing all the songs. Dad of course got stuck watching it with us often, and was taken by this line about the east wind blowing her in and how she would leave when the winds changed. There’s a lot of mythology around the east wind. The Iroquois believed the moose heralded the east wind, which brought rain, and Eurus in Greek mythology was the east wind that brought warmth and rain. When I got older and started getting into trouble, my dad started calling me the East Wind. Eurus is symbolized by the inverted vase spilling water, so I that is what I depicted here.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you for sharing, Cas.” The reporter shook his hand. “I wish you the best of luck, whether you stay or go. Maybe I’ll see you at the bar after.”

Cas blushed. “Maybe. Thank you.”

She turned and walked away, passing Anna along her path who was bee-lining straight to Cas.

“First of all, your work is amazing and I can’t wait for Sarah and her fancy guests to make it back here to see it. Secondly, I would be a bad friend if I didn’t –“ Anna punched Cas in the arm. “If you hurt Dean, I will kick your ass, and I’ll just be the first in line. He looks like he’s twisted up in knots over something, and all of his angry eye brooding is directed at you. What happened?”

“I was going to leave,” Cas admitted with a sigh. “I had my bag packed and left a note for Gabe, but he went home and found it and told Dean. Now he’s irate with me, and I don’t blame him. It was a rash decision and I shouldn’t have gone about it that way.”

Anna hit him again. “You’re leaving us? _No_. Unacceptable. You’re family now. Some people come in and out and none of us blink an eye. But you’re one of us. You can’t leave. Plus I’m pretty sure Dean is head over heels for you, and he won’t say it because he _doesn’t_ say it, but don’t think for a second he doesn’t.”

“That’s the problem,” Cas said.

“Do you love him?” Anna asked.

Cas thought for a moment. He wanted to just say _yes_ , but it was more complicated than that.

“Just don’t leave without saying goodbye. Please? Or just don’t leave. That would be great too.”

Ruby came up to the two of them, nearly stomping in her heels. “I’m done with Linda’s tattoo and I’m shutting down my station. I want to mingle. And drink. Dean’s almost done with Ash’s tattoo, and needs another trustworthy client. You have anything you need done?”

Dean walked past all of them to the back room with the big wash basin without saying a word.

Cas looked at his painting, then back to Ruby. “Yeah actually, I do.”

 

Dean did his rage pout when Cas rounded the corner of the room, closing the door behind him.

“You make disinfecting your hands look so menacing,” Cas said with a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Dean turned off the water and dried his hands with a paper towel. “Really?”

“I don’t know what to say, Dean. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“So if I hadn’t found out, if Gabe hadn’t _by fucking chance_ gone home and seen the note, you would have left without a word?” The pain in his eyes was almost too much. They stared at each other, Dean waiting for some logical explanation that didn’t exist and Cas searching for words to somehow explain himself. “I thought we had something, Cas. I’ve never been hit like this, and I’ll admit it. I don’t know what it means. But I know we need you. I need you. Don’t leave. Whatever’s going on, we can talk about it. Please stay.”

Cas still couldn’t find words. He felt his eyes go glassy. 

Dean finally just shook his head. “You got nothing?” He scoffed. “And people were afraid of me hurting you.” He started to leave and Cas stepped in front of the door.

“Wait, please,” he said.

“Cas move, I have shit to do.”

“Dean,” he said, his voice vulnerable.

Dean couldn’t deal with him at that moment. He pulled the door open and stalked off, putting on his smile for the people. Cas followed. Anna was at the front, checking people out who were making purchases. He slipped behind the rope and into Benny’s client chair, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“I’m your client,” Cas said, pulling his arms out of the sleeves. He folded the shirt lengthwise and threw it over the partition next to Dean’s jacket. “You’re tattooing me. See I have this hole, this blank spot right here,” he pointed to the center of his chest, “and I think it’s time I filled it in.”

“What do you want?” Dean asked, looking stoic.

“The vase I painted. But with your artistic touch, of course.”

Dean looked at the back wall and took a cap off of a purple tracing pen. He started a freehand drawing on Cas’s chest, then asked him if it looked okay when he finished. He’d made it look more like a sketch, but it was what Cas had painted. Dean didn’t talk to Cas as he prepped. Getting on his gloves, he pulled out the ink and unwrapped a new needle from a sterile package. He situated himself comfortably and started the gun. The whirr of the machine filled the studio again, against the sound of voices and music. The noise alone was therapeutic to Cas, but once he felt the needle he was in another place. It was just him and Dean, whose anger was radiating from him. He was professional, shutting out the commotion that filled the shop and setting aside his fight with Cas to do his job. He finished the outline quickly, then started to work on the next pass with color.

“Oh, you’re getting it tattooed! Very cool. It looks great,” the reporter said when she came up to the rope. She read his chest tattoo. “ _East Wind_. That makes it very fitting too. Did he tell you the story behind the vase?” she asked Dean.

“No,” Dean said gruffly.

Without being asked, she rattled off the story about Cas’s mom and dad with Mary Poppins, Eurus and the east wind, and when she got to the part about the moose Dean looked up and stopped. He looked at Cas, finally getting why Gabe called his brother Moose. He told her it was quite the story and started again. When she left, he switched over to purple.

“So you and me, we’re the east winds, huh?”

“It would seem so,” Cas said, gritting his teeth as Dean shaded along his sternum.

“Well the winds change,” Dean said, pressing one hand to Cas’s chest while filling in the outlines of the vase with the other.  His eyes softened and his voice was forgiving. He looked into Cas’s eyes as he cleaned up his chest.  “Maybe we can change.”


	10. Two Whiskeys, Two Beers

Gabe’s bar was filled. He had to employ Ruby, Sam, and Benny to help serving with him. Sam looked happy and excited like a giant puppy. Seeing how well the show had gone and watching Sarah doing what she loved brought him such joy. Gabe looked frazzled, but kept smiling when he knew someone was looking. Benny just did as he was told, happy to help. Ruby was exhausted and had kicked off her heels twenty minutes in to tending the bar. Cas finally made his way to the bar after they closed the shop, having sold nearly all the art that had hung on the walls. His and Dean’s angel and demon paintings had been picked up by Sarah’s collector friend who gushed over them. The dealer she was showing around bought Cas’s painting. He was glowing, partly from the thrill of having paintings sell and the endorphin rush of getting a tattoo, partly from knowing with certainty something good was going to happen for once.

When he reached the bar, Gabe stopped everything. “Are you leaving?” he asked plainly. His eyes looked disappointed and sad.

“No,” he said with a huge smile. “I’m staying.”

“Oh thank god.” He pointed his finger into his brother’s face so quickly Cas jumped. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you understand?”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You better be.” His eyes shone in the light of the bar. “What can I get ya?”

“Two whiskeys, two beers. That's all for us tonight - need to represent the shop.”

Gabe nodded and pulled the beers. “I really am glad to hear things went well. And that you’re staying.”

“So am I.”

Dean arrived at the bar, reaching behind to grab two tumblers and the whiskey.

“Hey!” Gabe yelled as he finished pouring the second beer. “What the hell are you doing, Winchester?”

“I got this, brother,” Dean said with a wink and a smile.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Ugh, you two are disgusting.”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Cas protested.

“Yeah, okay, but I know that this –" he gestured between the two of them with his hand “- is all happy feelings and mushy lovey-dovey bullshit and I don’t want to hear it. Take your cuteness overload to a dark corner so us sad saps aren’t affected.”

Cas took his beer and leaned over the bar. He got close to Gabe’s face and looked right in his eyes. “I know for a fact that you are not a lonely sad sap in a dry spell.” He darted his eyes over to Ruby and back at his brother, raising his eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out of here, both of you,” Gabe said, fighting a smile.

“You can’t fool me, Gabe,” Cas teased.  He slapped his brother gingerly on the face, took his beer, and went away with Dean who carried the whiskeys.

 

 

After making the rounds and talking to who they were supposed to talk to, Dean tugged on Cas’s jacket to get his attention.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Cas nodded. He said his goodbyes, following Dean out the back and heading to his car. He started the engine and drove toward his apartment as quickly as he could get there with the Friday night traffic of everyone headed home after a night out. He pulled into his apartment and took the fire escape stairs up the side of the building again, Cas following close. He got the door unlocked and started kicking off his shoes as soon as he got inside, throwing his keys and jacket on the table. He turned and clapped his hands at Cas as he spoke.

“Beer?”

“Sure,” Cas said. He took off his shoes too. It felt odd, but he felt at home here even though this was only his second visit. He took off his jacket and lay it alongside Dean’s.

Dean returned with a beer and nodded to the living room. He turned on the fire to warm up the room and turned the television to some movie playing on cable and left it on as background noise.

“So why were you going to leave?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

Cas cupped his bottle in his hands, avoiding eye contact. “It’s something I used to do and I really wasn’t thinking.” He swallowed and looked at Dean. “I thought there was something here, and I got scared. I don’t get romantic feelings and I don’t fall in love, and that has always been a problem. Mostly with me feeling as if I don’t love someone adequately enough. That they deserve to be with someone who can reciprocate those feelings in the same way.”

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?”

“My gut just said to go,” he said, embarrassed.

“Well don’t. And next time, talk to me. You said you thought something was here, between us?”

Cas nodded, unaware that while he did, his eyes passed over Dean and he licked and bit his lip subtly.

“Then who cares if it’s romantic or not? If you want to be with me and you’re happy, I don’t care. There’s no wrong way for you to love me back if you do.”

“So we can just…be us?” Cas asked.

Dean laughed. “Cas it’s really not that complicated with me. Stop over thinking.” He stood up and took Cas’s beer, setting both of their drinks on the table. He knelt on the ground in between Cas’s legs. “I’m a simple man who just wants to live a good life and be happy. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re a part of that now.”

Cas smiled. “I like that.” He leaned forward and looked at the freckles on Dean’s face, the lines in his skin at his temple, and paid attention to the things he glanced over before, finally seeing in his eyes the sincere and honest way he loved. He brushed his face against Dean’s, his hand resting on the opposite side, whispering to him, “ _You’re a good man_.”

“Come with me,” Dean said softly into Cas’s ear, as if they were in a crowd. He rocked back and stood up, taking the beer bottles by the neck in one hand and Cas’s hand in the other, pulling him up to follow him. He led him back to his bedroom, the side lamp casting a warm glow throughout the room.

Dean set the bottles on the nightstand and retrieved his lube, tossing it onto the bed. He stood in front of Cas at the end of the bed and stared into his eyes. His thumb tried to unsuccessfully smooth out some wild hairs in Cas’s short beard. Cas’s eyes looked sad but hopeful, the emotion from the day wearing on him. Dean kissed him, his flawless mouth on Cas’s full lips that parted with the slow flick of Dean’s tongue. They smiled at first in between kisses that kept getting longer and more serious. Cas received Dean’s ardent kisses, his heart pounding in his chest as Dean’s hands moved to his belt. He let out a happy moan which broke Dean’s concentration for a moment, making him smile and chuckle softly before returning back to the task at hand. Cas’s mouth started to burn, his lips feeling inflamed from the friction of Dean’s beard. Dean kissed down Cas’s neck, sliding his pants down, then moving to take off his tie.

“You’ve gotta stop dressing up. It takes too long to get your clothes off,” Dean said, having trouble undoing Cas’s tie.

Cas started unbuttoning his shirt. “Trust me, if this wasn’t Gabe’s shirt, I’d just tear it off.”

Dean looked at Cas struggling on the fourth button and took the shirt in both hands. “I’ll owe him one.”

He pulled the shirt and buttons popped off, scattering across the carpet. He pushed Cas back onto the bed. Cas slid back. Dean pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants. He stepped out of them and climbed over Cas, kissing him from stomach to throat, biting his neck playfully. Dean kissed him full on the mouth, rolling his hips, rubbing against Cas.

Cas reached for the lube, expertly pouring some into his hand and snapping the lid closed with one hand, not breaking stride. Dean came up for hair, raising up and sitting back, straddling Cas’s thighs so he could stroke himself with the lube. 

“Are you okay?” he asked Dean.

“Yeah,” he said in a breathy exhale, moving up over Cas’s cock, letting him slide up and down his backside before he pressed onto Dean. Dean slid down Cas slowly, lowering himself onto him. His eyes closed and his mouth opened, breathing out as he glided down Cas, his own cock growing rigid as Cas filled him.

Cas bucked himself up once Dean as on him, knocking Dean forward. “Be careful of this,” he said, pointing to the fresh tattoo on his chest.

“Don’t worry,” Dean said, kissing the wrapping covering the tattoo. “I’ll be careful.” He kissed Cas again, moving his knees up and his body forward, letting Cas have control from the bottom.

Cas moved slow, taking Dean’s ass in his hands, spreading his cheeks as he pushed up into him. His breath stuttered out of parted lips as he pushed into Dean, Dean's tight muscles clenching around Cas’s cock.

Dean buried his face in Cas’s neck, letting his breath reflect back off Cas’s smooth skin, rocking himself back onto Cas’s cock, feeling the strain of the skin tightening around his head. He reached down and stroked himself, mimicking Cas’s movements as he slipped his hand over the top of his head down to the base, pulling up and back again. “ _Oh fuck_ ,” he moaned, rocking back onto Cas harder, forcing him deeper.

Cas kept his pacing, enjoying the feeling of being with someone he cared for so deeply. Giving Dean pleasure and receiving it in return was so good, something he wanted to experience again and again for as long as Dean would have him. Sweat started beading on Cas’s brow. Dean let him push in a few strokes at a time before rearing back on him, his ass rebounding against Cas’s thighs, sending Cas to the brink every time.

Dean kissed Cas with passion and a desperate need, pressing his forehead to his as he was reaching climax. Cas stopped and slowly withdrew as Dean came, pointing himself down on Cas’s stomach to avoid his fresh tattoo. Dean felt warmth on his skin, Cas coming with him in tandem.

Cas shuddered with a sweet release. Once they were both spent, he kissed Dean’s nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, his chest. He wanted to kiss every inch of this man. He had so many words he wanted to say, but none of them felt good enough to express how he felt in this moment.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

Cas laughed. “I am more than okay. I’m happy.”

Dean’s voice dropped, breaking as he said “I’m glad you’re going to stay.”

“How could I leave?” Cas asked, pushing back his hair, pressing his lips to his forehead. “I couldn’t leave you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To ewdean - hope this was at least adequate. Sorry I let it get away from me - I meant to make it much shorter. 
> 
> Thanks to ColtsandQuills for beta'ing the first few chapters since I'd never written an AU other than domestic one-shots for the Lazy Sunday series. I appreciated the feedback a lot. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading, and I hope it didn't disappoint.  
> If you want to scream at me, tumblr of the same name.


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